


Once Upon a Halloween

by indestinatus



Category: NCIS
Genre: Accidental Cuddling, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, F/M, Fake Marriage, Family Feels, Fix-It, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Shenanigans, Heavy Doses of Domestic Bliss, Humor, Idiots in Love, Snippets, Some Jealousy and Confused Libidos, Spooky, Sprinkles of S13-S17 Sadness, how do I even tag this, i swear there are moments from S3 up till post-S17, lets just say 'tiva banter' in all forms, they actually talk about their feelings, tivatober2020, with some special appearances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:26:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 51,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26645200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indestinatus/pseuds/indestinatus
Summary: Collection of ficlets (around 1k words each) based on a 31 days challenge, takes place in Fall/Halloween. One-shots, unrelated, about Tiva/Tivali.Updated daily as in October 2020.
Relationships: Ziva David & Anthony DiNozzo, Ziva David/Anthony DiNozzo
Comments: 441
Kudos: 180





	1. Spooky Season

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's October 1st and Tony is way too excited for Halloween. Ziva and McGee try to figure out why.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Crisp Air 🎃

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, guys! I hope we have fun this month!! And perhaps even after that when all these stories are completed (fingers-crossed i can actually finish this, seems so crazy now but oh god let’s go). This prompt was so vague I just used it to describe the season in general lol that counts, right?

The elevator doors opened and Tony bounced into the bullpen, carrying a brand new coffee cup and a very excited smile. 

“ _This is Halloween! This is Halloween! Pumpkins scream_ -”

“It’s October 1st,” Ziva stated dryly, interrupting his singing with a frown as she narrowed her eyes at him from her desk. 

Not at all surprised by her lack of humor, Tony dropped his backpack beside his workspace before shooting her a glare. 

“ _Exactly_ ,” he said matter-of-factly and sat down. “October 1st - dry leaves, cold fog, crisp air... I can almost feel the smell of fall coming from our boring parking lot. _At last_ —” He pointed dramatically to his surroundings, “—At last, these ugly orange walls look more than just a circus. _Be afraid… Be very afraid._ ”

Ziva looked at him as if he was losing his mind, and Tony was again amazed by her complete ignorance of movie quotes. “The Fly? A 1980’s classic, _c’mon_. Jeff Goldblum? _Drink deep or taste not the plasma spring_!”

Ignoring what he thought was a spot-on impression, Ziva huffed unimpressed before squinting her eyes at him again. 

“I thought Halloween was at the end of the month.”

“Halloween is not a _day_ , David.” Tony cast her a lip-tight smile and propped his feet at his desk, making sure not to let her kill his vibe. “It is a _season_ , get your American facts straight.”

“You never cared for Halloween,” McGee chimed in, also looking at him suspiciously.

Tony chuckled, then laced his fingers behind his head. “Well, I do _now_.” He directed his grin to the ceiling, remembering the events from that morning.

“And why’s that?” asked Ziva. 

Tony chuckled, then quirked up an eyebrow towards her before looking upwards again. “I found an invite mixed in my mail this morning. For a Halloween preview party. Tonight,” he clicked his tongue. “From _Amanda_.” 

He took the black little envelope out of his suit’s pocket and waved it in McGee’s direction, who stood up to grab it with a visible frown on his face. 

“Amanda?” quizzed McGee. “The one whose cousin you slept with and now both of them hate you? 

“Well, apparently _she_ doesn’t anymore.” Tony wiggled his eyebrows, then hit his desk with his palm enthusiastically. “New year, new beginnings, McFly. But now that you brought that up,” he added with a crease of his forehead, “I think I liked her cousin more.” 

Tony pursed his lips, strange memories of past Halloweens suddenly coming back to him. “Huh.”

“What are you going to dress up as?” queried Ziva, a spark of interest in her eyes. Tony wondered for a moment what that meant.

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” he answered casually. He made a mental note to deliberate it during lunch, though. “Maybe I’ll just take my shirt off, women like that.”

Ziva huffed, sounding amused. “Sure.”

Tony grinned back, seeing the sarcasm in her gaze. “She liked that. Amanda’s cousin, that is. Can’t remember her name though. I wonder if she’s gonna be there…”

Still reminiscing good memories, McGee’s sudden chuckle took him out of his reverie.

“Well, _you_ certainly won’t.”

“Yes, I will,” replied Tony smugly, smirking down at Ziva, who just rolled her eyes. 

“No, you won’t.” McGee chuckled again. “This invite is from last year’s party.”

Tony’s laughter died once he noticed the amused smile twitching on McGee’s lips. “What are you talking about, Probie?”

“The one you missed because of the fake blood case last year?” McGee lifted an eyebrow. “The one you kept whining over for a whole week, then you glued my fingers to the keyboard _thirteen times_ in total until Christmas?”

“Oh, I remember that.” Tony smiled again, then understood what he’d meant. “Wait, really?” He stood up in a second, darting to McGee’s to steal the note from his hands. 

And there it was, in pretty cursive lettering, the date from last year. 

Tony’s shoulders slumped down just as quickly as his excitement with Halloween evaporated. He wondered if he should just appear in her party anyway, but the idea was almost instantly discarded once he remembered the way Amanda had screamed at him from her porch last year. Perhaps she still hadn’t forgotten his _adventures_. 

McGee patted his shoulder in sympathy. “Sorry.”

Tony smiled sheepishly, then tucked the note away with a mental reminder to throw it away when they weren’t watching. “It wasn’t important anyway. I mean, she hates me.” He chuckled weakly. “And her cousin was _way_ better.”

“Maybe next year,” McGee cautioned, sharing a meaningful look with Ziva before making his way out of the bullpen to Abby’s lab.

Tony was still mulling over how stupid he must have looked ordering a pumpkin spiced latte that morning when Ziva materialized just in front of him.

“Hey,” her eyes watched his face for a moment before offering him a small smile. “It’s only October 1st, yes? And we can always throw our own party.” She patted his chest softly and Tony felt a new warmth growing inside, one that had nothing to do with fond memories from past parties. 

“Really?” He asked, suddenly hopeful again. “And what would go dressed up as, huh? Sexy Amazon Warrior?”

Ziva’s eyes sparkled for a split second before giving him a smirk that must have matched his own.

“Hm.” She pursed her lips. “I always liked Wonder Woman.”

And as she swayed her hips back to her desk, Tony felt the excitement building up again - perhaps the Spooky Season would turn out to be even better than he’d originally planned. 


	2. Karma's a Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The evidence box sometimes holds unusual objects, and when Tony and Ziva decide to play with a cursed crystal pendulum, things escalate quickly.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt** : Witchcraft 🔮

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to quickly thank everyone who showed any kind of support for this project!!! I’ve been working on these stories for a while now, and I can’t wait to share them all with you <333

"How does it work?”

Ziva eyed the shining crystal Abby held in the air carefully, observing with a certain degree of wonder how it reflected her lab lamp with its various streams of purple light. Yes, it was part of the evidence, but that didn’t mute its eerie, almost mystical quality as Abby made the pendulum slowly sway from side to side. 

“First you make your mind ready,” Abby said in a low tone, eyes glued to the lapidated crystal, “Then you ask a question, and then you verify the signal.” She demonstrated what meant yes (front to back) and no (side to side), while Ziva was still deciding whether to be skeptical about it or afraid they were _certainly_ about to damage some evidence, perhaps even crucial to the case. 

Trying not to reflect upon it too much, she blinked away the tiredness of the late hour - there on the lab, she wasn’t certain what time it was, but it sure made her eyelids burn with fatigue - and focused on the way the streams of light danced on Abby’s hand instead.

“Just that?” Ziva found herself saying, fighting back a yawn. 

Abby appeared to be as excited as ever, and Ziva briefly wondered how many Caf-Pows she had consumed to be smiling that enthusiastically. 

“Wanna try?” she asked cheerily, and Ziva shrugged, raising a hand to hold the crystal Abby presented to her. 

“ _Argh_!” 

Ziva almost dropped it with the scare she heard just next to her ear, his scream making her instantly alert and his strong hands gripping her by the shoulders and shaking the remaining of her self control off completely. 

Ziva cursed at him in a foreign tongue, while Tony only laughed under her sharp glare and flaring nostrils. She hit him hard on the chest and was seriously questioning impaling one of his eyes while Tony wiped the tears falling from them. 

“Your mojo must be real bad, David. You didn’t even notice the elevator ding.” His face was still red with laughter while Ziva mentally listed all the ways she could hurt _his_ ‘mojo’ with just a crystal. “So this must be real good, huh? What is it?” Tony pointed to the stone, taking it from Ziva’s hands without asking for permission. 

She huffed annoyed, then took the crystal back. “Witchcraft,” she smiled sweetly, refraining herself from hitting him with it. 

“Witchcraft?” Tony stole it again from her hands and Ziva was certain the steam she was blowing through her nose was almost visible in the air. “Pff.” He turned the chain over on his palm, studying the crystal’s surfaces under the lamplight.

“What?” Ziva rolled her eyes, too tired to take it back now. She knew this was about to be an unending battle, and he looked way more awake than her at the moment. “You don’t believe in witches?”

Tony glanced at her amused. “ _You_ must have a broom locked up in a cupboard somewhere.”

“Careful, or I will make sure to dust the cauldron off just for you.”

Tony cast her an arrogant lip-tight smile before looking at the crystal again, testing its pendulum. He frowned, then closed his eyes with a mocking lift of his nose as he made the crystal rotate, skepticism dripping from his expression. 

“Will I get lucky tonight?” Tony asked no one in particular, then opened one of his eyes to catch the crystal swinging back and forth. “Hmm great.” A smirk tugged in his mouth. “Though I knew that already.”

Trying to understand just _how_ he could get lucky that night if they already were stuffed with paperwork to do until early hours of the morning, Ziva’s frown deepened, and she shared a glance with Abby, who just shrugged in return. Just _thinking_ about the amount of work still waiting for her at her desk made Ziva feel more tired, wishing she was making a cup of tea at home instead.

Though she had to admit there was something quite amusing in having Tony of all people testing potential cursed objects from an evidence box. 

“Will we wrap this case soon enough?”

The pendulum swayed from side to side and Ziva let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of her sore neck. Nothing surprising there.

When Ziva looked at the crystal again, though, she was surprised to see it now moved back and forth. Mildly confused, she glanced at Tony to find him watching her, but his gaze quickly flickered back to the stone as soon as she caught him staring. 

_Interesting_. 

“A bit ambiguous, let’s ask something that we already have the answer to.” Tony cleared his throat, his focus now completely directed to the crystal. “Am I the hottest guy in the building?”

Without waiting to see the outcome of that one, Ziva rolled her eyes before stopping the pendulum by grabbing its chain. 

“I have one. Will Tony ever get his mirror fixed?” she asked sweetly, eyeing him with interest. He said he’d woken to his bathroom mirror broken last week and, since then, she and McGee had made sure to bug him saying it was the ancient spirits who had finally been fed up by his awful morning appearance. 

Tony huffed. “Superstitions don’t scare me, David.”

“Says the guy working a pendulum.”

“Well, let’s see if it tells the truth or not.” He lifted a brow and she let the crystal go, now swaying freely in the air again. “Is Miss Ziva David scared of plastic spiders?”

A chill ran down her spine as she remembered the spider she’d found in the ladies’ restroom that morning, reminding her the reason why her day had started to go badly in the first place. 

Then she understood why he’d asked that question. 

Ziva turned to Tony slowly, the motion so deadly it appeared she hadn’t moved at all - the crystal’s purple streams of light dancing on her face the only thing that betrayed her immobility. 

“You were the one who put it there.”

The air was quiet, and the only thing that moved was the pendant chain, while Tony just blinked under her dangerous stare. 

“Did I?”

A moment passed, the two of them staring at each other until Tony’s lips twitched into an arrogant smile and Ziva knew the truth. 

Confusion substituted his grin once Ziva cast a sweet smile his way, taking the crystal from Tony’s hands to give it to Abby, who just watched it all with wide eyes. With a duck of her chin, Ziva softly asked her to put it into motion again, turning back to Tony to find his attention already on her, eyes unblinking. 

She smiled again, pleased to see him still carefully studying her. 

“Will Anthony DiNozzo ever see the light of day?”

Ziva was thankful the crystal was now in Abby’s hands, otherwise, it must have certainly shattered once Tony spent a total of two seconds watching her and then ran as fast as he could downstairs, Ziva following close behind. 


	3. Leave It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva wakes up to a sound coming from her front yard, and it seems like someone is messing with the piles of dry leaves.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Leaf Raking 🍁

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my heart, the present-day Tony and Ziva only do soft things 200% of the time, so this is one of them :’)

Still a bit dazed from sleep, Ziva crossed the living room to open up the windows that led to the front of the house. Morning dew condensed the glass, and it was early enough to still hear the birds singing outside, their song entering the house as quickly as the cold gust of air.

She was almost turning towards the kitchen to make their breakfast when an indistinct blur of color caught her eye, running from the middle of their front yard to hide behind the wide trunk of their maple tree. 

Glancing at the clock to confirm the time, Ziva found that it was not even 6 am - which was right by her calculations but made her question why one would be awake so early on a plain Saturday, _especially_ in that weather. With a frown, she eyed the figure behind the maple tree again and didn’t know whether to be angry or relieved once she recognized who it was. 

Ziva opened the front door and stepped out onto the porch, but even with her crossed arms and her eyebrows tangled in an accusatory frown, Tali wasn’t afraid at all as she ran towards the leaf pile and jumped into it with a loud bark of laughter.

“Tali!” Ziva called, wrapping her cardigan better around herself at the sudden coldness of the air. “Your father raked that pile just yesterday, you’re making a mess!”

Eyes wide, Tali looked at her for a brief moment, but she was quickly distracted by their labrador darting from their backyard onto another big pile that still remained untouched nearby. 

Mildly confused by their dog being free at that hour, Ziva was startled to find Tony already standing next to her when she turned to check it. 

“Leave it,” he said, his gaze focused on Tali and the puppy jumping onto the leaf pile. “Don’t worry about it.”

Ziva’s eyebrow shot up. “It’s the third time she has done that just this week.”

Tony nodded, still not looking at her. “I’ll make sure to ask her to tidy it all up afterward.”

Ziva huffed annoyed and turned to watch them too - Tali now falling back first onto the pile and holding the puppy up in the air, her loud giggles mixing with his soft barks. Ziva knew it was her duty as a parent to let her daughter play freely as much as wanted, but it was also her place to teach Tali some discipline, and being ignored multiple times didn’t help nor soothed her doubts towards raising her correctly. 

Ziva felt his eyes burning into her then, certain that Tony was studying her reaction. She kept her frown for as long as she could, watching the copper leaves fall to the ground and slowly fill their front yard until she realized it wouldn’t be long for him to have to clean it all up again.

Giving in, she glanced at him to find Tony trying to hide a smile at her serious expression. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” Ziva frowned. “What?” 

Tony tried to hide his amusement, but his eyes were visibly sparkling. He raised a hand to brush Ziva’s curls out of her face, but she was slightly surprised to see it picking something out of her hair instead. 

“You have a leaf in your hair.”

Tony’s lips twitched into a small smile, his hand holding the dry leaf for a moment before discarding it in the garden. He chuckled a little before his attention drifted back to Tali, his elbows resting on the porch fence as he leaned over to watch her. 

Ziva spent some time scanning his profile, noting how relaxed he was in that habitat - spending a lazy Saturday morning watching his daughter and dog jumping into leaf piles on their own front yard - and suddenly she knew any parenting would turn out just fine if she had him by her side. 

Nudging him with a shoulder, she asked, “You think you can make a pile bigger than mine?”

Tony turned to her, lips tilting into a smile. 

“The neighbors do like me better,” he replied with a lift of his brow.

Ziva leaned over the porch fence, mimicking his posture, then huffed. “That’s a lie.”

He watched her, an amused sparkle in his eyes. “Wanna bet?”

A moment passed and Ziva laughed, right before bolting into the house again to grab her boots by the hall while Tony shouted protesting cries on their porch that were muffled by the closing of the front door. 

Their laughter echoed across the living room when Tony was successful in slowing her down as she tried to hurry outside again to collect leaves for a brand new pile. 


	4. Sugar & Spice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva makes use of the early morning to bake. Tony is too sleepy to process anything. Established Tiva.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Pumpkin Spice 🥧

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some liberties with the pumpkin spice prompt lol it has pumpkin? in a way? haha very fall-themed, I think.
> 
>  **Slightly NSFW** , so watch out for that.

She tried to find a nearby surface to clean her flour-covered hands, but nothing was close enough or clean enough, so she decided it would be easier to just finish the dough and tidy everything up later. 

Ziva eyed the table for a while, processing the time she would need to do that afterward. Half an hour? Twenty minutes? With the bowls used to make the fillings and the various measuring cups and spoons spread across the jam-stained tablecloth, she had made quite a mess without realizing it. 

Still focused on calculating the needed time, Ziva jumped a little when she felt his hands hold her by the waist, coming from behind. 

"Hmm, what are you doing?" Tony’s voice was slurred with sleep as he nudged his nose in the crook of her neck. 

"Baking," was Ziva’s reply, and she felt his chuckle reverberate across her back.

"Yeah, I can see that." He planted a kiss just beneath her ear, and an uninvited chill ran down her spine at the sensation.

"Cinnamon rolls." Ziva let her head fall onto Tony’s shoulder, pulling his hands tighter around her body. She must have got his arms dirty with flour, but he didn't seem to care. His body felt unfairly warm against hers. 

She felt him draw back slightly from her neck to look at the mess of the table. 

"It's 4 am," he mumbled, a tinge of judgment in his voice. 

Ziva looked at the clock to see that it was true, a soft smile appearing at the corner of her lips. She hadn’t realized it was still that early - maybe she had more time to clean everything up than she thought. 

"I wanted to make them in time for breakfast." 

Tony huffed. "Tomorrow… today? It’s a weekday, don't know if you know this." 

"I know. They are for Ducky, actually,” Ziva replied, recalling the conversation she had with him just the previous evening. “He said he missed his mother's ones she used to bake every fall." Ducky’s mother had died last winter, and that detail had stuck in her mind for some reason. 

Tony stretched a hand to dip his finger onto a bowl of filling, bringing it to his lips a second later. 

"Hmm,” he mumbled as he tasted it. “Sweet." 

A spark of pride flickered inside Ziva’s chest.

"They're pumpkin flavored."

Tony kissed the back of her head, then leaned in to whisper in her ear, "I was talking about you, actually." 

Another shudder ran down her spine at his words, and Ziva couldn’t stop herself from smiling then, her heart skipping a beat. 

He must have sensed her appreciation, though, because Tony started planting soft kisses at the side of her jaw as he pulled her closer, his body now towering her from behind. Some giggles escaped her from the tickling sensation of his still to shave stubble, but that didn’t slow him down.

The kisses quickly turned into nibbles where her neck met her shoulder, and Ziva found herself tilting her head to expose the skin of her throat without thinking. Tony’s tongue swirled over her pulse, and she had to bite her bottom lip to stop the moan that had risen once he hummed against her skin. 

"Ah,” Ziva breathed, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Tony. I really want to finish this in time." 

"Hm, just go ahead." He nibbled her earlobe.

"Well, I can't." 

Ziva felt his hands going underneath her sweater, the warmth coming from them making her head spin. 

"Hm, why not?" He mumbled against her neck, just as he softly bit the skin there and then soothed it with a brush of his tongue. 

"Well, you prove to be really distracting sometimes." Ziva wet her own lips, feeling a bit breathless with the nonstop attention her neck was receiving. 

"Sometimes?" 

She chuckled at his smugness and Tony’s hands trailed north under her shirt, his knuckles grazing the arc of her breast. 

"Please?" Ziva pleaded, even though some part of her just wanted to give in and let the plans aside for another day. 

Tony didn’t help at all, pushing his weight onto her backside. "C'mon,” he said just in her ear, “You need some spice with all that sugar." 

One of his fingers brushed against her nipple and Ziva felt tingles firing low in her belly as Tony started to suck her pulse at the same time. Before she could hold herself back, Ziva’s hand shot up to run her fingers through his hair, and the current length of it made her a little bit more alert. 

"How old are you again?” Ziva tried to come back to reality, his breathing still making her feel a little bit lightheaded as it grazed her neck. “A middle-aged uncle making poor attempts at flirting?" 

Tony chuckled against her skin, his arm circling her tighter. "Yes. Exactly that.” He planted a quick kiss at her jaw. “Except I'm an only child, sorry." 

Kisses restarting at her neck, Ziva almost couldn’t register his words as she let out a moan and Tony’s gripping became more possessive, a low groan muttered next to her ear and he pushed himself again hard against her back. 

When his fingers started to play with her sweatpants waistband, though, some sense returned to Ziva, and she inhaled deeply before turning to meet his eyes. 

"Tony." She lifted an eyebrow, amused at the slight frown that marked his still sleep dazed face, his eyelids heavy as his gaze darted from her eyes to her lips. 

"Fine,” Tony said at last, retrieving his hands after a moment of hesitation from under her shirt. “I'll let you be.” He leaned in to press his lips briefly against hers. “Just come back to bed when you're done?"

Ziva nodded, smiling softly. "I will do that.” She kissed him again, their noses bumping in the process and making her chuckle. “Thank you." 

Tony hummed against her lips, then smiled lazily right before pulling her again for another kiss, this time spinning her to fully hug her by the waist. Ziva let her hands raise to circle his neck, and when her fingers ran again through his hair, Tony let his tongue brush her lower lip.

She broke the kiss with a smile, knowing full well that if they continued, this would escalate into even a bigger mess and a couple of hours wouldn’t be enough to let them get to work in time. 

Tony nodded, a sparkle in his eyes, then retreated. His hands lifted to cup Ziva’s cheeks, and he angled her head down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. 

"My cinnamon roll," he said, a smile clear in his voice. 

Ziva chuckled disgusted. "That one was even worse." 

"Sorry if I'm not on top of my game before the sun has even risen.” His hands hesitated to leave her, but he took a step back towards the bedroom. 

“Catch me in a few hours though," Tony added with a wink as he brushed spots of flour from his forearms and hair. 

Ziva’s heart swelled at how adorable he looked, and a smile twitched on her lips. "Love you.” She blew you a kiss in his direction. 

Tony watched her for a moment and she wondered if he had changed his mind and would come closer again, but he stayed in his place. He eyed the cinnamon dough still to be made on the table and shook his head, huffing softly.

"I love you, too." 


	5. Maze Mishaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When a case leads to a corn maze, it’s not surprising Tony and Ziva get lost in it. Though that is not the only accident that occurs.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Corn Maze 🐸

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is so silly!!! But sometimes all you need is silly situations and an excuse for kissing so...

Ziva huffed annoyed. “We are lost.”

“We’re not,” Tony sassed back, not even looking at her.

“Yes, we are.” She glanced around them, finding nothing more than acres of sweet corn plantation everywhere she turned, its long leaves swaying with the cold October wind. “You lost us.”

If it wasn’t for the fact that the crime scene had got them inside a maze in the first place, the day was going fairly well with most of the work needed already finished by noon. Now, however, Ziva wasn’t so sure - it’d been a good while they were trying to find their way back to the van. 

“How can I ‘lose us’, David?” Tony bickered back, lifting his eyes from the little map at his hands to shoot her a glare, his jaw clenched. “Lost in translation much?” He gave her a lip-tight smile. 

“I knew it would be quicker if I was the one with the map.”

“History may differ,” he replied with a sharp stare.

Ziva rolled her eyes, remembering the time they got trapped at a campsite a couple of years earlier. “That was _one time_ and the letters were already fading.”

“Create excuses all you want, we still walked in circles for two hours.”

Tony smiled at her sweetly and Ziva wanted nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his face. But soon he turned around, looking left and right a couple of times before settling on left and disappearing from view inside the corn maze, and she had no choice other than to follow him.

“Well, if you had handed me the map earlier than that, it would have been two minutes,” she protested, picking up her pace to meet him. “Now let me see.”

Ziva tried to steal the leaflet with the directions they had received at the start of the maze, but Tony was faster and pulled it away from her reach. 

“Shush,” he said with a scowl. “Senior Field Agent?” Tony pointed a finger to his face. “I’m still the authority here.”

Ziva huffed exasperated, then pointed to a spot in front of them. “Then why do I feel like I’ve seen that rock before?”

“Rock?” Tony laughed sardonically, then looked at the stone that marked the middle of the following crossroad and his laughter quickly died. “You can spot a common rock and remember it?” He met her gaze again, narrowing his eyes. “You scare me sometimes. Getting lost in mazes was part of Mossad training?”

“Yes, in fact, it was,” Ziva bit back, putting her hands on her hips. “So you admit that we are lost?”

She lifted an eyebrow, but he only stared at her with a judgemental look.

“Give me that.” Ziva lost her patience and grabbed the map from his hands.

Tony huffed and kept his grip tight, not letting it go. “How about no.”

“Give it to me!”

“How about—”

Tony’s voice died in his throat when he turned to fully face her and stopped mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open. 

“What?” asked Ziva, eyeing his lost expression with a confused frown. Tony’s gaze darted between her eyes and her chest, and Ziva was starting to question his sanity as he stared at her shirt unabashedly. 

“ _What_?” she repeated, her voice getting higher as she pondered for a while whether to hit him or not. 

“There’s a…” Tony swallowed, then his gaze fixed on her shirt again. “Don’t move.”

“There’s what?” She was too focused on his irritating face so close to hers to think reasonably. “ _Tony_. Spill it.”

“Okay then,” he nodded slightly. “There’s a very large bulge eyed frog just vibing on your shirt.”

Before even looking down, Ziva felt a chill run down her spine, which was ten times amplified once she glanced at her shirt and saw exactly what he had described - a very large, pea-green frog blinking its glossy, yellow eyes her direction, its small, slimy hands glued to the fabric. 

“Take it off,” she said slowly, as steady as her voice could. Not taking her eyes from the horrible speckled creature, Ziva pulled the end of her shirt so that it could stay away from her chest, but the result was not what she was looking for **—** the frog jumped a little bit farther up, getting closer to her face.

“Take it off of me!” She lost her cool once she felt it croak just under her eyesight, now too close for her to see it fully. 

Moving her neck side to side, Ziva stretched the shirt as best as she could, but the frog continued to ribbit coming from a place just under her chin, the repetitive monotonous sound making the hairs of the back of her neck stand on end. 

“ _Tony_!”

“Hold still!” he replied in a hurried voice. To her surprise, he seemed to be taking the matter seriously, but the fact that she could still feel the weight of the frog on her chest wasn’t so much of a reassurance. 

“Hold still, _goddamnit_ , it’s cold,” Tony grunted, and Ziva felt a wave of relief once its heaviness was gone from her shirt. 

She shuddered, a shiver running across her arms once she saw the frog in Tony’s hands, still ribbiting and with an intensely doleful gaze directed her way as it licked its own eye. 

Ziva let out a protesting whimper and stuck out her open palms in a defensive manner. “Tony, _don’t_.” 

“Give it a kiss,” he provoked, holding the frog close to her face, “Just a peck on his lips, it’s all he wants.”

“Stop it! Get that away from me!” Ziva tried to push him away but Tony held his ground, putting the awful creature even nearer to her mouth. 

“You’ll deny a kiss to such a helpless creature?”

“Yes, I will,” she retorted with disgust. “I’m fairly certain there’s no prince hiding in him.”

“I think he likes you,” Tony goaded.

“That is no excuse for me to kiss him,” she cried, trying to look the other way. “He’s a _frog_!”

She was still trying to avoid him when Tony suddenly stopped, the frog jumping out of his grasp to land on the crossroad rock. Its long tongue stuck out in a swift move to catch a distracted fly right before it started croaking loudly again. 

“Wait, really?” questioned Tony, his brow pulling in. “That’s a pretty great excuse, actually.”

Ziva turned to him with outrage, still trying to shake the bad feeling off her skin. “To kiss a _frog_?” 

“To kiss it because he likes you.”

She was ready to give him a retort but stopped once she noticed Tony staring at her, his eyes a bit wide as if he’d just regretted his own words. 

“And why do you say that?” Ziva queried, eyeing him with interest. 

Tony chuckled awkwardly, then pointed a finger in her direction. “I know what you’re thinking, David, and that’s not it. I’m already a prince, I don’t need you.”

Ziva huffed amused. “More like the jester to me.”

Tony chuckled again, looking to the sky and then to the corn plantation around them, not meeting her gaze any more. 

“Aren’t jesters more fun, though?”

Ziva frowned as she tried to understand the sudden change of his behavior. 

“They’re also more idiotic.”

Tony’s gaze settled on her then, and Ziva was surprised to find a smirk dancing on the side of his mouth. He put his hands inside his pockets, watching her amusedly, and Ziva’s frown deepened once Tony stepped towards her, his chin raised a little in a provocative manner. 

Then his eyes sparkled and she understood why.

Ziva lifted an eyebrow, then rolled her eyes. “I won’t kiss you either, stop looking at me like that.”

“You actually owe me now.” Tony’s eyes were twinkling as he took another step closer. “C’mon. If I turn into a prince, I’ll rent a helicopter to get us out of this maze.”

Ziva narrowed her eyes but stood still as he invaded her personal space. 

“You’re saying you’re a frog?”

He was close enough to share her breath now, and Ziva tilted her head at how his gaze flickered to her lips as she spoke. She was well aware of what the gesture made to him, and soon Tony’s eyes were wide, a bit darker than she was normally used to. 

“I’m saying we’re lost in a corn maze,” he smirked, licking his lips before letting his gaze roam all over her face. 

Ziva lifted an eyebrow, then smiled sweetly. “I already know that.”

Tony waited for a second longer, still trying to lure her into the trap of kissing him. His gaze was now settled on her mouth, and Ziva would’ve been a fool if she didn’t admit it brought tingles to fire low in her belly. 

“Fine,” he said after a minute, taking her by surprise. 

Tony sighed, then turned the other way to crouch next to the rock that marked the crossroad. “You’re such a mood killer.”

His back was turned to her, and Ziva found herself watching him stand up again and look left and right with her pulse racing. 

Before she could even think properly, she was grabbing Tony by the shoulders and spinning him towards her, cupping his cheeks to pull him down to a kiss. 

It was brief and hasty, but his skin felt warm and her lips were nonetheless reluctant to leave his a moment later. 

Tony looked taken aback, eyes a bit wide as he skimmed her face, a hand fisting her hair which he must have instinctively lifted. 

“Did it work?” He gulped, blinking a bit.

“It did not.” Ziva shook her head. “We’re still stuck in a corn maze.”

A moment passed, then Tony’s lips twitched into that trademark smile that made her heart skip a beat.

“Best out of three?”


	6. S'mores Code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In a gathering around the bonfire in Tony and Ziva’s home, Ellie learns how to make s’mores - and about the meaning behind them.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Bonfire 🔥

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A dash of Ellick for Ellick lovers *sprinkles stolen glances and shy smiles*. This is set after S17, in what I like to call “one of many family gatherings” :’)

The bonfire crackled right in front of her, its flames dancing high towards the night sky and warming her cold, numb fingers. It was already turning quite late and the chilly air made her shiver, but Ellie didn’t feel as affected by the cold as she should be—there were too many friends around her for that. 

Tony and Ziva had invited everyone for a meetup at their home, and dinner had easily turned into conversation around a makeshift bonfire in their backyard. Their children now ran after McGee’s twins while Ziva shared this crazy story about a container and burned bills and everyone laughed with her, passing beer bottles and sausages in sticks to cook over the flames. 

“He knows,” Tony’s voice right next to her made Ellie jump, she hadn’t seen him come closer at all.

“What?” she frowned.

Tony chuckled, then motioned with his beer to the other side of the bonfire. “He knows you’re staring. For a trained special agent, you’re doing a pretty bad job at it, Bishop.”

Ellie felt her cheeks burn way more than was acceptable for a bonfire, her heart racing when she realized she had been caught red-handed. 

“I’m not _staring_ ,” she chuckled weakly. “There’s a bonfire. I’m watching the bonfire.”

Tony took a sip of his beer and looked at her, his eyes sparkling. 

“Really?” he smirked. “Is it the same level as hotness, you think?”

She felt the heat creep up her neck and couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Nick again. He looked just as attractive as ever - broad figure and carefree laughter - but tonight he’d added an old flannel to his look that was a really brainkiller. She couldn’t stop staring, Tony was right, and it was all because of that damn shirt. 

Nick’s eyes met hers then, and Ellie quickly looked away, even more embarrassed now that he probably knew she'd been studying him all night. Well, she couldn’t really do anything about it—it was as if he was this magnet, pulling her attention whenever he entered a room. 

“C’mon.” Tony bumped against her shoulder. “I’m just messing with you,” he offered a smile. “Don’t know why you two are still running away from it, though.”

Ellie chewed the inside of her cheek and tried not to look at Nick again, a task that was making her annoyed by how difficult it was. 

“We have rules against it, Tony,” she replied with a bitter taste on her mouth. 

“Yeah, and I’m not _married_ to Ziva.”

Ellie looked at Tony then, narrowing her eyes at how he smirked. 

“Didn’t you ‘run away’ from it for years before that, though?” she asked, lifting an eyebrow. 

He took a minute to answer, and she didn’t miss how his gaze flickered to his wife for a split second before his eyes sparkled and he turned back at her again. 

“Bishop,” said Tony, downing the remaining of his beer. “Let me teach you something. Pass me some crackers.”

Ellie’s eyebrows raised at the question, a bit surprised by his willingness, but did what he’d ask nonetheless. 

“So.” Tony grabbed two crackers and held them in front of her, an excited smile twitching at his lips as he did so. “Rule number twelve is, in fact, the most misunderstood rule of all. Well, right next to fifty-five.”

“Fifty-five?” Ellie’s brow pulled in. “I don’t know if I know that one.”

“Yeah… it’s better if you don’t, actually.” Tony pursed his lips. “Now focus. The marshmallow—” he said as he took a toasted marshmallow hanging from a stick over the fire and put it atop a cracker, “—is work. Work… late office hours, boring phone calls and sometimes, if you’re lucky, somewhat _interesting_ interrogations... but work.”

“Huh,” Ellie huffed, trying to understand his line of thinking. 

“The chocolate…” Tony put a piece of chocolate just on top of it, presenting it to her. “Is everything but. The good, juicy stuff, huh? Desert, let’s put it that way. Sweet cocoa wonders for you to explore—”

“Gross,” Ellie interrupted.

Tony chuckled under her judgemental stare. “My point is… and pay attention now, that’s the important part.”

Ellie crossed her arms, preparing for the ‘great conclusion’. “Yes?”

Tony watched her for a moment, making sure he had her attention before continuing. 

“The ratio,” he said, putting the top cracker and smashing down its new ‘sandwich’. “Only with a good marshmallow-chocolate ratio will you ever get the perfect s’more, two halves of crackers mashing it all up together in a delicious goo of years of sexual tension.”

Ellie couldn’t hold back the laughter then, saying, “Yep. You’re crazy.”

Tony smiled broadly, giving her the s’more. “I’m also very wise.”

Ellie cast him a small smile, accepting it. She took a bite, the hot marshmallow and sweet chocolate melting on her tongue.

“Tastes good,” she admitted, suddenly noticing she felt more relaxed.

“I know.” Tony beamed. “I’m best known as the S’mores King.”

Ellie laughed then, and as she looked across the bonfire again, Nick was already staring—a wide, genuine smile directed at her that made her warm way more than any fire. 

“Daddy?” Tali’s voice came from next to her, and Ellie turned to find her tugging Tony’s shirt.

“Yeah, sweetie?” he asked, his hand patting her boot. 

“Hm, your s’mores.”

Tony glanced at Ellie, a proud smile cracking on his lips. “Do you want more?”

“No,” Tali shook her head, then pointed to the marshmallows still on the bonfire. “They’re burning.”


	7. Whiskey Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva go undercover as a married couple, and... Things go as expected.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Whiskey 🥃

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gratuitous use of trope “let’s kiss to distract them” and I’m not sorry.

“So how did you two meet?”

Tony lifted his gaze to settle on the middle-aged woman sitting at the other side of the table, her smart gray eyes seizing him up as she took a sip of her wine. Among everyone at that dinner, she was the one he was more worried about, her sharp stare making him believe she was seeing more than she let on.

“Oh, you know, the usual.” He gave her his trademark smile and saw her eyes sparkle, a voice in the back of his mind telling him to tread carefully. 

Tony wiped his mouth with a napkin and surveyed the table, noticing the silence that had followed her query. Even if not really obvious, they were all paying close attention to them there, especially to a question that could reveal something as valuable as that. 

There were eight people in total - including him and his partner - and now they were all trying their best not to look discriminatively curious, but Tony had spent too much time studying people in his life to spot an audience when there was one. 

He glanced at Ziva by his side to see she was doing an incredible job in focusing on him - warm eyes and a small smile displayed as if she was remembering a fond memory between them - though he was certain she had already calculated all the best exit routes at this point, her sweet façade a mask only him could see through. 

Tony took the hand she was resting on the table and brought it to his lips, locking eyes with her as he pressed a brief kiss to her knuckles. They both knew it was just for show, but the way in how her eyes widened almost imperceptibly made him way more satisfied than he would ever admit. 

He glanced at the madam at the end of the table again, casting her his best lovey dovey smile before turning his gaze back to Ziva for full effect. 

“I went on a run every morning to keep myself in this great shape—” he hadn’t meant it as a joke, but laughed along as the others did too “—and one day she just came along,” Tony said, squeezing Ziva’s hand in appreciation. 

She rolled her eyes accordingly, an uncharacteristic shy smile tugging at the corner of her lips as if remembering good memories. 

“She’s not really the athletic type, you see,” Tony added, and had to bite back a whimper that rose on his throat when he felt a sharp pain on his foot, certainly coming from Ziva’s high heel. “But love makes you do crazy things. Isn’t that right, honeybunch?” he amended through gritted teeth. 

Tony gave her a lip-tight smile, trying not to protest at the acute pain still radiating from his toes even if Ziva now cast him the most wonderful smile ever, her head tilted a little in his direction. She chuckled right after, shaking her head while the others at the table laughed too, captivated by her charm.

“She struggled to keep up with me at the beginning, but after a few days of chase, I found myself unable to think about anything else.”

Ziva looked at him again, an eyebrow lifted. He mirrored her expression, letting his gaze flicker to her mouth hovering so close to his, lingering for a moment. 

“She’s a real distraction,” Tony declared to everyone, knowing how clear his desire for her was to them.

Well, maybe it was more real than he wanted to acknowledge, but some part of him was thrilled over the fact that Ziva’s mask fell for a split second, her cheeks flushing a bit. 

_Perhaps it was the wine?_

“I thought you’d be the one to chase her,” a voice interrupted his thoughts. 

Tony glanced up to see it belonged to a man in his late 30s, his face recognizable from McGee’s computer when they had narrowed their suspects' list a day earlier. The man smirked, but not at him; rather at Ziva, ogling her without shame. She did look beautiful tonight - a maroon dress that showed her low neckline and her hair styled in an updo that complimented it well - but that was hardly an excuse for a free stare when Tony was sitting right next to her. He clenched his jaw. 

“We played cat and mouse for some time,” chimed in Ziva, as if sensing his attention was elsewhere. She smiled sweetly before raising her hand to cup Tony’s cheek, taking him by surprise for a moment before he played along, leaning into her touch. 

“Until he gave me what I always wanted,” Ziva continued, looking into his eyes.

“A ring?” He asked with a smile.

She shook her head slightly, then withdrew her hand from his face to pat his chest just above his heart. The corner of her lips tilted upwards. 

“A home.”

The women swooned and the men chuckled, and Tony would’ve been moved himself if it wasn’t for the mocking sparkle he saw hidden in Ziva’s eyes. 

“Thank you for inviting us to yours,” she added without giving him time to react. She turned to the mistress and ducked her head, saying, “It’s beautiful.”

“It is,” the woman replied, raising her chin in conceit. “And you didn’t even see the cellar yet.”

“Could I?” asked Ziva, her voice so sweet it didn’t even seem to belong to her. 

“Sure, dear,” was the mistress’ reply. “It’s magnificent.” The woman eyed Ziva with appreciation, then her gaze turned to Tony and the respect immediately died. “Take your husband, teach him a few things. The stairs are just around the corner.”

Before she could change her mind, Ziva was already up, ever so eager to pull him along out of that table filled with criminals to the place they were looking for since they got there—the cellar where they believed the data for the arms shipment was hidden.

* * *

“Superficial much?” asked Tony, watching her rummage through whiskey bottles and cedar barrels.

“I was just doing my _job_ ,” Ziva deadpanned, shooting him a glare. “It’s incredibly difficult to ‘keep up’ with your nonsense.”

She cast him an annoyed smile and he returned it, blinking sweetly at her bickering. 

“I think she bought it,” Tony said as he searched behind rows of wine bottles. “I’m starting to believe in it myself, this undercover business is really just me finally showcasing my refined acting skills—”

“ _Honeybunch_ ,” interrupted Ziva with a tight smile. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Shut up,” she said dryly, the smile dying. “We need to be quick.”

Tony huffed annoyed. “I am being quick.”

“And yet you can not stop babbling.”

If Ziva were looking at him, she would’ve seen the offended face he pulled, but she was rather engrossed in opening and closing big wooden crates instead. Knowing she was right and that they really needed to get that code as fast as possible, Tony focused on doing the same, checking cabinet doors and places where a safe could be hidden. 

“Found it!” exclaimed Ziva suddenly, holding up a flash drive the size of her hand. “Now we just need to give it to McG—”

Tony had no time to think other than to throw himself against her, skilfully joining their hands as he brought them above her head while he muffled her words with a kiss. 

His tongue pushed inside her mouth while he pressed her body against the whiskey cabinets, Ziva’s protesting cries dying out as soon as he squeezed the hand that held the flash drive, telling her the reason. 

She started to play along, releasing the hand that was free to wrap it around Tony’s neck and pull at his short hair. The kiss turned wild in a second, their tongues battling for dominance while Tony pressed his hips against hers, Ziva letting out a low moan that made his head swim. 

Soon Tony’s hand was hooking her bare leg around his hip, the slit of her dress making matters a lot easier. He squeezed her thigh and Ziva bit at his lower lip, the mix of pain and pleasure letting a sound escape from the back of his throat. 

Certainly not thinking properly, Tony pushed her body against the glass cabinets, listening to the bottles of whiskey rattle inside as he did so. He was sure he heard Ziva’s appreciating groan being muffled by his mouth, but the sound of someone clearing their throat nearby kept him from reacting accordingly. 

“Oh,” said Tony with a relaxed smile, licking his lips as he let Ziva’s leg down. He felt a bit lightheaded, his pulse racing even if it was all an act. “Sorry, man,” he added to the familiar face who’d caught them on the base of the stairs—the guy that had ogled Ziva all night. 

Tony glanced at her then, noticing with a flicker of satisfaction that she looked as disheveled as him - her face visibly flushed and her breathing uneven as she did her best to tidy her hair. 

Tony raised his hand to brush a strand off her forehead, and Ziva’s eyes widened a bit before she let them skim over his face with a glint of lust that seemed unexpectedly too real. 

“Like I said,” Tony declared to the stranger, though his gaze was locked with hers, “A real distraction.”

A moment passed and then the man huffed, taking them out of their reverie. With his hands inside his pockets, he walked towards them only to open a nearby cabinet, taking two bottles of wine. 

He looked at them with a smug smile, saying, “Oh, I understand.” Then gave Ziva a once-over, not a dash of shame as he ogled her bare legs. “ _Completely_.”

Tony took a step forward to block his view, and the guy’s eyes snapped to his. Tony narrowed his eyes, clenching his jaw, and the stranger took no longer than five seconds before he gave up on the staring match, shaking his head and walking towards the exit with a small smile. 

Tony huffed. “Douchebag,” he chastised, turning to Ziva. “Flirting with my _wife_?”

“I am not your wife,” she replied, though her eyes were still sparkling. 

“What’s that on your finger, then?” Tony raised a brow. “A _home_?”

She let out a low chuckle and, to his surprise, opened the slit of her dress again to expose a hidden pocket high up her thigh—one in which she safely put the flash drive and covered it again with the fabric. 

He must have stared at her bare leg far too long, because Ziva took a step towards him, starting to fix his tie in place with a smug smile on her lips.

“You look a bit disheveled,” she said as she raised a hand to run her finger through his hair, combing it down. 

“There’s very wifey of you,” Tony replied, his eyes marveling at how close her face still hovered in front of his. 

Ziva hummed amused, then patted his chest, and he didn’t miss the way her gaze flickered to his lips for a split second before she drew back. 

Tony watched as she opened one of the cabinets and took out a bottle of whiskey, and with which passing second, he thought more about giving it all up right then and there and push her against one of the doors one more time.

“Risky business,” he thought out loud. This undercover operation was turning unexpectedly dangerous.

Ziva’s eyes sparkled as she passed him towards the stairs. 

“Don’t you mean whiskey?”

Tony watched her go, her hips swaying maybe a bit too much as she climbed up the steps.

“Yeah,” he said, ungluing his feet off the ground to follow her, “Yeah, sure.”


	8. Forgotten Flannel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony, Ziva and a flannel shirt. Alternating POV.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Flannel/Sweater/Scarf 👕

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at summaries, but that’s exactly it lmao I apologize.

“Good morning!” Ziva exclaimed cheerfully as she entered the bullpen. It was a great day - the familiar October weather had given them a break to let the sun illuminate the cold navy yard - and there was really no reason for her to be in a bad mood.

She was in a great mood, actually. 

“Good morning, Ziva,” replied McGee with a smile, waving at her from his desk.

“Good—”

Tony’s voice died in his throat as soon as his gaze lifted to hers, his eyes turning a bit wide before his brow pulled in.

Ziva looked at him amused. “What’s wrong?” she asked, eyeing how intensely he stared. “Rat ate your tongue?”

Tony’s mouth had parted a bit, but when she sat down, he quickly closed it. Ziva watched as his elevator eyes gave her a once-over - which, to be fair, was something she was used to on a daily basis - but she was mildly surprised to see how intense his gaze was to such a normal choice of clothing in her part. 

She narrowed her eyes at his reaction, wondering what was the reason behind it.

Tony huffed as soon as she tilted her head, an amused smile tugging at his lips that made her heart speed up a bit. He glanced at McGee with the corner of his eyes and Ziva questioned the furtiveness behind the act. It was as if he knew a secret no one else did.

_Yet._

Tony stared at her again, eyes locked with hers as he smirked. 

“Cat.”

Ziva’s forehead creased, but she mentally noted to question him about it later. “Thank you,” she replied, eyeing him with a new curiosity.

Tony’s eyes sparkled. “Wasn’t a compliment.”

She chuckled. “Really?” she asked, propping her elbows onto the desk. 

“Really,” Gibbs deadpanned, storming into the bullpen. “Dead marine at Quantico,” he said flatly as he threw the van keys her way. “Grab your gear.”

With the keys now in her possession, Ziva was surprised to see Tony made no comment about her driving for a change—he stood up quickly, packing his things before following Gibbs, not a word directed at her.

 _Interesting_ , she thought. She wondered what had got into him today.

* * *

He couldn’t keep his eyes from her—well, to be fair, he was used to her being a distraction—but that day might have been the worst day of his career.

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, inhaling deeply to see if some bit of self-control returned, but to no avail. As soon as he opened his eyes again, they were instantly pulled to Ziva, who was quietly taking crime scene photos and not even aware of the effect she was having on him. 

With the uneasiness growing with which passing second, Tony bit the inside of his lip as he watched her bend forward in order to get a better angle, and the arousal that that picture provoked was painfully unfair.

Before he could think better of it, he stepped towards her, taking her by the arm and pulling her into a corner. Ziva let out a protesting cry, but didn’t utter a word before they were next to the van, now out of sight from the team.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and even the small amused sparkle in them was enough to send the sirens blaring inside his head. 

Tony inhaled deeply before speaking, releasing her arm as he asked, “What are you wearing?”

Ziva huffed, but he didn’t miss how she stepped even closer into his personal space, eyeing him with interest. 

“A shirt.”

Tony let his gaze wander down to her chest, finding an old, crimson-red flannel way too familiar for him to be mistaken.

“You mean _my_ shirt.”

He watched Ziva intently as her eyes widened a bit, right before a smirk started dancing at the corner of her lips. 

“ _Your_ shirt?” she asked with a slight frown, her eyes flickering to his mouth and then back up again. 

“Yeah.” Tony took a step closer, the air now feeling heavier as he started to share her breath. “The one I thought I had lost. But apparently, I just forgot it at your place.”

Ziva raised an eyebrow, huffing softly. 

_Would she try to deny it?_

He remembered that night quite well, though the alcohol always made him think the shirt had been misplaced elsewhere. 

“It’s a favorite,” he declared, lifting a hand to play with its seams. 

“It’s not yours.”

Ziva’s eyes locked with his, and he instantly saw the sparkle in them that told him she was lying.

Tony gave a light chuckle, saying, “I know my clothes.”

“I do not know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do.” He let his eyes flicker to her mouth and was amused to see hers darken in effect. It would’ve been so easy to shorten the distance between them then, just capture her lips with his own.

“You can keep it if you want to,” Tony licked his lips. “Remember my scent as you fall asleep.”

Ziva chuckled. “How pretentious of you.”

“Or perhaps wear it to work just so you can gauge my reaction.”

Ziva’s lips twitched in a smirk, and Tony understood that was exactly what she’d meant—be as much as a distraction to him as possible. He questioned if she knew all along then, perhaps the sway of her hips and the stolen glances had been more exaggerated than usual.

“Hm,” she hummed, not admitting to it.

Tony eyed the shirt again, taking his time. When his gaze lifted to hers, he noticed her hooded eyes glisten, the desire now evident.

“You look way better in it,” he said lowly, not surprised to see that his breathing had turned uneven. Ziva was dangerously close to his face, her mouth mere inches from his. It was turning almost unbearable, how heavy the air felt. 

“Hm,” she let her eyes fix on his mouth. “Perhaps I should wear it more.”

With his pulse racing, Tony felt her hand lift to his arm, her thumb softly tracing his biceps, and the urge to kiss her senseless right then and there turned acutely high.

“My place tonight?” he asked without thinking, placing his hands on her waist. He watched her blink a few times, perhaps as affected by the closeness as he was. 

“Okay.” Ziva's frown softened.

Tony chuckled lightly, then leaned in to whisper something on her ear at the same time he squeezed her waist. 

“Wear the shirt.”

When he drew back again, Ziva was smirking.

“Oh, Tony.” She let her hand stroke his chest lazily. “I rather wear nothing at all.”


	9. Friday the 13th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After learning Ziva hadn’t even heard of one of the best halloween movies ever made, Tony decides to make her watch it. Bullpen shenanigans. Third-wheel McGee, as usual. Poor guy.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Scary Movie Night 🍿

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like to think they go on these non-date-dates, okay? No one can change my mind they’ve been happening since forever.

“You never heard of _Hocus Pocus_?” Tony exclaimed, shooting her a disapproving glare. “That’s a disgrace,” he huffed. “You’re more of an embarrassment than I thought.”

Ziva rolled her eyes from her desk. “How can I be an embarrassment? To _whom_ , exactly?” She raised an eyebrow and narrowed her eyes, annoyed. “It’s not really my fault.”

Tony barked out a laugh, glancing at McGee for support, but he only looked at him with his brow lifted, waiting for the issue to resolve. 

Still not believing what she’d said, Tony turned to her again, his eyes a bit wide as he snapped, “Yes, it is! You’re in the U. S. of A. You call yourself an American citizen and yet you have no Halloween traditions?” He huffed. “ _Please_.”

“Do you have any traditions, Tony?” chimed in McGee, perhaps aware that if the steam that now came from Ziva’s ears raised too high, there would be no traditions at all. 

“Well, yeah.” Tony cleared his throat, puffing up his chest as he tried to set a good example.

Ziva cast him a lip-tight smile and he turned suspicious with the tilt of her head.

“You go trick or treating?”

Tony gave her a tight smile. “Only children do that here.”

“Doesn’t answer my question,” she teased.

The way she eyed him like a cat eyeing a mouse, though, made him want to put her off. 

Cracking a grin, Tony was pleased to see an idea already forming in his mind.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “Tonight there’s a screening of Hocus Pocus. The cinema is doing a Halloween special. We’ll watch it so you can see how much you’re missing.”

He was amused to see Ziva’s brows shoot towards the skyline, clearly taken aback by the sudden turn from their usual bickering. 

A moment later, her eyes narrowed again as she asked, “Like a… date?” 

The idea really sounded better in his head. 

“ _What_?” Tony loosened up his tie. It was October, he shouldn’t be feeling this hot. “Pff. _No_.”

Ziva smiled at his uneasiness, and he cursed mentally. 

“So…” She propped her chin at the palm of her right hand. “McGee can go?”

With his mouth slightly parted and his mind racing, Tony glanced at McGee to see him already smirking, clearly amused by the situation. Yep, he came to a dead-end, and it was completely his fault. 

“Hm…” Tony tried to come up with a good enough excuse to turn things around again. “He actually can’t,” he stuttered. “McGee already has a date.”

“He does?” Ziva frowned.

“I do?” asked McGee.

“Yeah.” Tony swallowed and then nodded, his gaze darting between the two of them. “Don’t you remember?” He chuckled sheepishly. “Miss Green that I introduced you to at the bar? Today is Friday, right?”

McGee narrowed his eyes at him. “It is.”

“Miss Green?” asked Ziva, now looking at McGee. “Do I know her?”

“Yeah,” McGee said amused. 

“No,” Tony denied.

McGee eyed him for a moment and Tony tried to send the message across without being too obvious. He glanced at Ziva again and she was watching everything with close attention, and that’s when Tony knew he had completely screwed up.

He gave McGee the power to destroy him if he wanted to.

“How old is she again?” McGee asked, crossing his arms.

A little bit relieved he went along, Tony was still tense it could go incredibly wrong. 

“Thirty,” he blurted. 

McGee raised an eyebrow. “Fifty, you said?”

“Fifty?” asked Ziva, surprise clear in her expression.

To be fair, Tony wanted to say the exact same thing, but he kept his cool as he nodded almost imperceptibly towards McGee. His friend smiled broadly, clearly delighted to see how helpless he was.

“Age doesn’t matter,” Tony deadpanned to Ziva. _Did she think age mattered?_ “He should be thankful she’s breathing.”

“Our marine is not,” said Gibbs flatly as he entered the bullpen only to throw his coffee on the trashcan. “Gear up!”

With that, Gibbs was gone, and Ziva started to gather her things to follow him. Tony watched her closely, and waited until she gave them a judgemental look and left before he turned to McGee.

Tony’s tight smile died as soon as McGee’s grin appeared, and Tony could almost see the sparkle in his eyes as he stuck out a hand in his direction.

“Here.” Tony took out a fifty dollar bill from his wallet and handed it to McGee, mentally noting to put more glue on his keyboard when the time was right. 

“Try not to embarrass yourself,” McGee said sweetly, tucking the money away.

“There are no scares in Hocus Pocus,” Tony replied dryly. It was practically a comedy jam. 

“Yeah…” McGee glanced at Ziva, who was still waiting for the elevator to arrive. “You might want to change that.”

Tony frowned, thinking about what he’d meant.

Then it dawned on him. 

_Completely alone with no one other than the Israeli jewel, in a dark, enclosed space with a great enough excuse for her to touch him for two whole hours?_

Tony ran to grab his backpack and darted towards the elevator, putting a hand in just in time to stop the doors from closing. 

“Hey,” he sounded a bit breathless. “You’ve seen The Exorcist yet?”


	10. Scary Skeleton

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva isn’t exactly fond of crime scenes, but she didn’t particularly care. This time felt different.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Skulls and Bones ☠️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory spooky fic in this halloween collection. Beware: spookiness.

Ziva glanced one more time over her shoulder, the feeling of being watched overpowering her thoughts. Again, there was no one other than the old grandfather clock in the middle of the empty living room, the constant sound of its ticking making her shiver against her own will. 

She didn’t like it. Well, she wasn’t exactly _fond_ of crime scenes, but she didn’t particularly care.

This time felt different.

Ziva surveyed the living room again, going through the mold growing on the old yellowish walls to the rotten cabinet doors stocking dusty bottles of whiskey; eyes detecting a running rat coming from underneath a gray couch to hide inside a hole just beside the grandfather clock. 

With years training in Mossad and another hundred of suspects chases, she was used to having to adapt seeing things in the dark, but the grim atmosphere of that house was something else—the only visible light came from a dull lamp hung in the middle of the vacant room, the way it swung making it almost impossible to take the crime scene pictures in good quality. 

Ziva glanced at the one window at the opposite wall, moonlight coming through the closed glass panels to only faintly illuminate a spot just ahead, too far away to help with anything. They had grabbed their flashlights on the van only to find out McGee had stolen their batteries for one of his computers, and the fact that not even candles were available at that horrific place made matters even worse. 

_Wait._

Ziva halted, looking at the window again. 

It was closed, like she thought it would be. No wind came from anywhere, not even from its cracks, and the air was deadly silent. 

_Then why did the light swing?_

“Do you believe in ghosts, David?” Tony’s voice made her jump, her hair standing on end at her neck.

Thankfully, he seemed to not have noticed, or else the teasing would’ve been unbearable. Maybe the darkness had saved her this time. 

Though she could feel his presence just beside her, she couldn’t really see him - just shapes badly lit by the dull light - and it must’ve been the same the other way around. 

“I do not _not_ believe in ghosts,” Ziva replied, still feeling a bit too much alert for her liking. “Why?”

She glanced at the clock again. 

A shiver ran down her spine.

_When did it stop ticking?_

“I wonder if you’d be a spooky one,” Tony chuckled. “Probably, dragging chains across the stairs and opening cabinet doors.”

He must’ve been completely unaware of the strange atmosphere, but Ziva wasn’t surprised. As soon as that man started listening to his own voice, everything else seemed to lose its appeal. 

“I think I would be too busy being dead,” Ziva deadpanned, hoping her dry tone would make him shut up. The quicker they did their job, the sooner they could leave that place, and the faster she could go home. Where it was safe from any paranormal activity… not that she really believed in that kind of stuff, but—

A distant sound of something crashing made her turn around in a second. 

Did it come from the clock? No, maybe next to it? She couldn’t really see, perhaps it had been the rat? 

_How can a rat create such a loud sound, though?_

“ _I_ would make a formidable ghost,” said Tony, still talking to her.

“You do make an awful lot of _noise_ ,” Ziva bit back. Had it been just a figment of her imagination? She had surely heard something that didn’t exactly sound human...

Then she heard again—a distant yet echoey clunk of something hitting wood, the hollow sound of a heavy object falling just nearby. 

With her heart racing, Ziva tried to see better, her eyes opening wide to catch any sudden movement in the darkness. With the camera forgotten around her neck, she took a step towards where the sound had come from, already expecting it to happen again. 

“Imagine McGee… McGhost!” Tony snapped his fingers. “I have to use that one.”

“Tony,” Ziva said in a hushed voice. “ _Shh_.”

She moved her arm to the side and hit his chest, surprised to find that Tony was closer to her than expected. Trying not to dwell on it too much, Ziva stepped towards the clock, doing her best to make her footsteps light—though the old wood floor tiles creaked even with all her care. 

Tony followed her, finally alert to what was going on, his arm pushing hers as they started walking towards the darkness. Ziva’s hand fell on her hip to hook around her weapon if she needed to, her pulse loud in her ears as she tried to catch that sound again.

Tony’s heavy breathing next to her ear wasn’t helping, and she asked for him to tone it down with a disapproving glare. He might not be able to see in the dark, but perhaps he knew her too well and turned silent nonetheless. 

They continued to walk towards the opposite wall, Ziva’s shoulder pressing against his and her mind racing. She had no idea why she felt such an uneasiness inside, but something didn’t feel right. It was as if the _thing_ that was watching her had traded sides, and now followed them instead. 

The sound happened again. 

But this time was different.

It was the hollow sound of something being moved across wood tiles, dragged farther away. 

It came just from the other room.

Ziva looked at Tony to see him already facing her, the gleam of his eyes the only thing visible among all that darkness. He nodded slightly, assessing her for a moment to check if she was okay. 

Ziva nodded in return, even if her heart was racing. She unclasped the weapon from her hip and raised in front of her, watching Tony do the same.

His hand touched the round door handle and it rotated with a clicking sound, a shiver running down her spine as it did so. 

Then everything happened way too fast.

The grandfather clock started chiming so loudly it made her jump more than the whatever was inside that room. Tony let out a muffled scream that made her dig her fingernails into his forearm, the grip of her weapon losing its strength. 

Then a skeleton fell from out of nowhere, the rotten skull of someone with holes instead of eyes coming near enough to graze her nose, its bones ghostly illuminated by silver moonlight. 

Feeling a coldness spread to her fingertips, Ziva was ready to destroy it with a reactive punch, but Tony somehow managed to turn on the lights and her hand stopped midway, her breath hitching. 

Jimmy looked way too happy to be carrying a human-sized skeleton like that.

“Oh, hi,” he said cheerily. 

With her pulse still racing, Ziva glanced at Tony to see him looking at the hand that still gripped tight to his forearm, and she withdrew it immediately, rubbing her earlobe instead. 

“Apologies,” said Palmer, smiling. “I was packing up the body and somehow managed to turn off the lights.”

Ziva blinked away the fright and tried to slow down her breathing while Tony cleared his throat. She hadn’t missed the way he’d screamed, but her mind was still working way too fast for her to joke about it.

“I lost my grip.” Palmer raised a hand of the skeleton in their direction, and they both backed away before he could touch them with it. 

“Didn’t have the stomach to turn it back on again,” he added as the skeleton’s hand rubbed its own hollow belly. “You know,” said Palmer, chuckling, “ _Lazy bones_.”

Neither of them laughed and Jimmy stopped smiling, a frown appearing as he looked between the two of them, confused. 

“Do _you_ believe in ghosts, Autopsy Gremlin?” asked Tony, his voice grave.

“Why?” Palmer swallowed. “Should I?”

Tony chuckled bitterly. “Yeah,” he said. “‘Cause if you keep making bad puns, I’ll turn you into one.”


	11. Ahead of the Carve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva carve pumpkins in one breezy autumn day.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Pumpkin Carving 🔪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony is a dummy and also a great father :')

“Hey, stop peeking!” exclaimed Ziva, shielding her pumpkin with an arm. “It’s cheating!”

“No, it’s not.” Tony continued to stretch his neck above her, trying to take a glimpse at her creation. “I’m merely appreciating the competition.”

The tradition of pumpkin carving started a few years back when Tony discovered that Tali had an irrational fear of pumpkin seeds as a toddler—though Ziva remembered quite clearly he’d laughed more than helped her stop crying—and since then, they tried to come up with crazy designs to cheer her up.

“What competition?” Ziva looked at him with the corner of her eyes. “We both know I am going to win this one.”

“Pff,” Tony breathed out a laugh. “ _Please_. You may know your way around with a knife, but that’s nothing compared to my creativity.”

Ziva chuckled in return, stopping her carving to watch him instead. 

Holding the knife in a rather strange angle, Tony’s forehead was creased as he focused on keeping the pumpkin still for him to sculpt. A moment later, he huffed annoyed as the knife slipped its surface and fell onto the countertop, but Ziva just couldn’t take any pity on him when he looked so adorable doing so. 

“Why are you laughing?” Tony lifted his gaze to her, and Ziva could see he tried to fight back a smile at her amusement. “You’re laughing at me?”

“Hm.” She pressed her lips together.

He skimmed her face for a moment, his eyes sparkling a bit. 

“Stop laughing at me, David. I have a knife.”

He raised the knife in a way that reminded her of the horror movie he made her watch the previous week—about a banker that had a second life as a killer—but compared to that man, Tony looked nothing alike; an eyebrow lifted as he stuck the knife into the counter, a smile dancing on his lips. 

“So do I,” Ziva replied, pointing to him with her own knife.

“You always do, that’s no threat.”

Ziva huffed amused, returning to the task of finishing her carving.

“Besides,” he said, “Tali likes me better. She’s gonna choose mine.”

“Hm.” Ziva gave him a sly smile and his grin widened. “We will see.”

Tony clicked his tongue and started humming out a song she didn’t know. She liked him that way—few knew he started humming when he had to concentrate, but Ziva was just so familiar with it by now, she usually found herself waiting for it. 

She wasn’t expecting the humming to stop so soon, but as Tony hissed and the knife clanked onto the countertop, her gaze was instantly pulled to him. 

“What?” Ziva asked. “What’s wrong?”

Tony clenched his jaw, his brow pulling in as he stared to the palm of his right hand. 

“ _Ouch_ ,” he let out, looking more disappointed than hurt. 

“Are you okay?”

Tony huffed, then seemed to be debating for a while before raising his palm up to show her the long cut from his thumb to the other side of his hand. Not sure what she was expecting, Ziva held back the opportunity of one deserved ‘I told you so’ to wait for Tony’s frown to dissipate.

“You were supposed to carve the pumpkin,” she eyed the cut with concern, “Not yourself.”

“Yeah…” His eyes narrowed slightly at his palm before his face suddenly lit up, and it was Ziva’s time to frown.

“Wait... that’s _brilliant_.” 

Tony breathed out a laugh that made Ziva change her mind—with that crazy grin on his face and blood starting to pool on the inside of his hand, he sure looked a lot more of a serial killer than he did minutes before. 

When Tony pressed his palm to splatter his pumpkin with the blood, though, Ziva’s surprise instantly dissipated into a straight face—he was a thirteen years old boy in a man’s child. 

“You are insane,” she said dryly. 

“You only say that because you know it’s brilliant,” he replied without looking up, “You’re too competitive.”

“I am _really_ not the competitive one here.”

Whatever sharp reply he had died in his throat once Tony looked up and his gaze settled in something behind her, or rather _someone_ peeking from behind the kitchen door. 

“Hi, cuddle bear.” He smiled broadly and Tali took it as a cue for her to come closer. 

She climbed into the island stool while Tony rotated his pumpkin for her to see. 

It was splattered with blood all over, and Ziva had to admit the crooked smile he’d managed to carve in it matched the appeal. She gave him her ‘not bad’ face with a purse of her lips and stood up to place her own pumpkin next to it—which was received with a slight nod coming from Tony, enough for a low chuckle to escape her lips. 

“So, which one do you prefer?” asked Tony, puffing up his chest a bit as he looked at Tali. “So it can sit in the spot of honor on the front porch this year.”

With her forehead creasing a bit, Tali eyed both pumpkins with concentration, darting between the two of them before she cracked up a smile.

“This one!” She pointed to her choice.

“ _What_?” exclaimed Tony.

“Ha!”

Tony huffed annoyed. “Mine has real blood!”

Tali glanced at his pumpkin again, then shrugged a minute later. 

“This one has glitter,” she pointed to Ziva’s nonchalantly and jumped out of the stool, settling on her choice.

“Well, I’m sorry if I’m no _Edward_ ,” Tony scoffed. 

“Who’s Edward?” asked Ziva with a frown.

He cast her a tight smile. “Too modern of a reference for you to understand.”

She crossed her arms. “I am younger than you.”

“Not in spirit, you aren’t.”

Tali disappeared from the kitchen and Tony stood watching her go, his forehead creased as if he tried to understand why she hadn’t chosen his one this time. 

Ziva’s frown softened, and she realized it had more to it than just his style of carving. 

She took a step towards him, uncrossing her arms. 

“Hey.” She stroked Tony’s chest. “Next year, yes?”

Her touch took him out of his reverie, and he skimmed her face for a moment before offering her a small smile. 

Ziva mirrored it, carefully taking his wounded hand between her own.

“Now let me take a look at that cut.”


	12. Fair Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When their suspect chooses the worst place of all to hide, Tony and Ziva have no other choice than to follow him inside a haunted mansion.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Fairs 🎪

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT’S MY ✨ BIRTHDAY ✨ TODAY AND THAT’S WHY I CHOSE MY FAVORITE ONE TO BE PUBLISHED TODAY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES.

“Oh, how great.”

Tony sighed exasperatedly as the suspect did exactly what he was _not_ looking for—zigzagged through the sea of people spending a cloudy afternoon in the local fair to storm into the worst place of all.

A haunted mansion. 

“This is gonna get ugly,” Tony said, eyeing the exits to see if the man had miraculously just reappeared at the other side. But no—all there was was the big structure of the haunted mansion, its dark walls made of rotting wooden plaques and illuminated by ghostly purple light. 

“We have no other choice,” Ziva’s voice appeared right next to him, her sharp eyes already detecting all the compromising spots around them. 

She started walking hastily towards the ghost house, her face serious as she maneuvered through the crowd to get to the other side of the street. 

Tony had no other choice but to follow her, still eyeing the mansion with a bit of concern. 

“I don’t remember signing up for this when I got the job,” he said with a worried glance at Ziva. 

“Afraid of haunted mansions?” she mused, still looking straight ahead.

Tony chuckled, then lifted an eyebrow towards her, asking, “Will you hold my hand?”

Ziva huffed amused. “Federal Agents!” she yelled right after, weapon already raised as she stormed into the mansion with no preparation whatsoever. 

“I’ll take that as a no,” said Tony dryly, then stepped into the darkness just behind her, weapon raised to the unknown. 

* * *

Some wrong landed punches and a torn lip later, Tony sat on the sidewalk curb putting an ice patch to his soon-to-turn-black eye while Ziva delivered their offender to the backseat of Gibbs’ car. 

"Let's make a deal to never chase someone inside a haunted house ever again," she stated as she walked towards him, helping Tony get up and wrapping an arm around his middle to ease his walking. 

"Fair enough,” he replied, the act of standing up making him wince. “But that also means I can no longer visit your apartment."

Ziva eyed him with a frown, and Tony felt her grip tighten around him once she surveyed how bad he must’ve looked after he took the ice patch off. 

"Why?” Ziva asked carefully, her hand grabbing the one he’d wrapped around her shoulders. “You are telling me it is haunted?" she sounded somewhat offended. 

"No,” Tony chuckled weakly. “But like every good haunted house, I just go there for the screams." 

Tony sent a smug smirk Ziva’s way, and a second later, Gibbs added another injury to the list—a head slap that made him whimper but came as expected. 


	13. Spellbound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day of work, Tony is met with the most amazing smell coming from his living room. Established Tiva.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Scented Candles 🕯️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has some references regarding Body Heat, just putting it out there. That said, this is **slightly NSFW** , so watch out for that ;)

The keys turned inside the lock, and after a long day of work, all Tony wanted was to take a quick shower and go straight to bed—until he was met with the most wonderful smell coming from his living room. 

_What the_ … It smelled of pine trees, vanilla, and… something he couldn’t quite place. 

Tony took a step forward, disposing his coat on the couch as he let the scent take him to the hallway. It smelled divine, his breathing slowing down as he tried to take in as much of the scent as he could, but his lungs didn’t feel big enough. 

The bathroom door was ajar, and as he opened fully, Tony felt like he was stepping into a dream—his usually dull bathtub was now covered in candles, as well as the sink and the floor, their flames trembling slightly at the motion of the door. But that wasn’t what made him feel all warm inside, no. 

It was the woman resting inside the bathtub, the skin of her wet arms glistening in the candlelight and her eyes closed even though he knew she’d sensed him coming. 

“I didn’t know we had that many candles,” said Tony, taking in how goddess-like she looked in that position.

“Me neither,” Ziva replied, eyes still closed. 

She looked simply amazing, but Tony didn’t know if she was even aware of that. Loosening up his tie, he discarded his shoes by the door but couldn’t stop staring; her breasts were partially visible on the line of water, the curve of her throat tilted in a way that was almost painful how attractive it was. 

“Smells great,” he said lowly, and wondered if she would pick up the huskiness in his voice. 

“It is for an incantation.”

Tony huffed amused, she never ceased to surprise him. “Didn’t know you were a witch.”

Ziva turned to him then, and her dark eyes opening felt like a stab to the heart. They did an unhurried elevator motion and the smirk forming on her lips showed the approval at his already naked torso, the shirt now discarded on the floor. 

“Only in my spare time,” her eyes lingered and Tony mentally noted to strip down more often. 

“What is it for?” He motioned to the candles with his chin while he took out his watch. “The incantation.”

Ziva’s eyes sparkled and she hummed, then rested the back of her neck again on the bathtub. 

“Peace,” she said, closing her eyes. “And quiet.”

“Really?” Tony chuckled. “So I’m just intruding?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Be grateful I still like you.”

Tony smiled then and was somewhat amused to see he’d managed to avoid hitting any candles as he made his way towards the bathtub. He watched her for some time, the way her chest heaved and the water rippled around her, how relaxed and naturally beautiful she looked. 

“You like me?” he asked, his finger touching Ziva’s cheek.

She leaned into his touch, a small smile appearing. 

“Some days.”

Tony smiled as well, and Ziva scooted over to let him enter the bathtub, taking the space behind her. The water rippled for a while until Tony settled his legs around hers, Ziva’s head resting on his chest as he pressed a kiss to her hair. 

As his fingers trailed her wet arms up and down, Tony was amused to realize her scent was even better than the candles around them—though he had to admit their swaying light and how silent it all was calmed him down almost to numbness, the long hours of work dissipating into the water. 

“This reminds me of Body Heat,” he thought out loud, kissing Ziva’s temple. “A bathtub, the two of them enjoying the night, way too hot weather…”

“It is not hot.”

Tony chuckled. “Oh, yes, it is.”

His hands cupped her breasts to prove his point, just as his lips stopped at the curve of her neck, kissing the spot he wanted to since he saw her. Ziva breathed out a laugh and he could feel it vibrating across his chest, the sound awakening something in him. 

Tony let his hands trail south, slowly making their way over her hips to squeeze the top of her thighs, and he didn’t miss how Ziva tilted her throat towards him. 

He obliged her, sucking her pulse while his grip turned more possessive, fingers digging into her skin. He let his tongue swirl where her neck met her shoulder, smoothing the spot he just sucked. Then the kisses went up, marking her jaw until Ziva let out a heavy breath that made Tony smile against her skin. 

“Thought you wanted quiet.” He nibbled her neck and again he was met with a low hum coming from the back of Ziva’s throat. 

“Believe me,” she said huskily, “I _am_ being quiet.”

Tony chuckled, remembering how loud she could be if she wanted to.

“You were right,” he said, planting a kiss on her jaw. 

“Hm?”

“You really are a witch.”

Ziva turned her face towards him, a lewd smile opening in her lips. 

“I put a spell on you?” she asked. 

Tony smiled as well, and her eyes quickly settled on his mouth. 

“Now all I can do is pray this doesn’t end up like Body Heat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spoilers: Body Heat doesn't end well.  
> more spoilers: Tony and Ziva do, though.


	14. Eye Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an encounter with Tony at a rather normal day at work, Ziva tries her best to tone down her confused libido... But he doesn’t really let her.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Candy/Sweets 🍬

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this one got longer than expected, but bear with me on this haha with the special appearance of the best character in NCIS in my opinion. 
> 
> **Slightly NSFW** (for reasons).

Ziva focused on the vending machine glass door until she could see her reflection staring back at her, her forehead creased into a slight frown. She clenched her jaw and her reflection did the same, the restlessness she’d been feeling all morning still making her chest ache. 

Knowing exactly _why_ her heart was racing, Ziva let out a heavy sigh and rested her head on the cold of the glass, awaiting the sound of her sparkling tea to fall into the product compartment. 

“Want some?” his voice startled her, and she snapped her eyes open to find Tony leaning against the machine, a pack of some type of candy stuck towards her.

Trying to regain some composure, Ziva narrowed her eyes at the colorful candy for a moment before sending him a judgemental glare. 

“Will you ever eat something with real nutritious value?” she asked, lifting a brow.

Tony shrugged, retrieving the bag of candy. “It’s Spooky Season.” He popped one into his mouth, making a sound. “There’s no better time for developing cavities and diabetes.”

Ziva rolled her eyes. She did her best not to stare at him as she turned towards the nearest table, praying he wouldn’t follow her. But of course, Tony was completely unaware of her uneasiness and pulled a chair just in front of her without even asking. 

She could feel his eyes watching her, but Ziva kept staring at the orange wall straight ahead, sipping on her tea. The silence wouldn’t last long though—where there was Tony, there was _noise_ , and he did what was expected. 

“So…” He popped another candy into his mouth. “What’s bothering you?”

The question _wasn’t_ expected though, and Ziva’s eyes flickered to his, a mistake she instantly regretted. Perhaps he’d paid more attention than she gave him credit for. 

“Nothing’s _bothering_ me.”

“Is it the case? Our killer still on the loose?”

The case wasn’t so easy, he was right, but Ziva almost wished it was even more difficult, so she could have something to keep her mind occupied. 

“No,” she said, a finger tracing the droplets of water on the can. 

Tony chuckled before asking, “The barista flirted with you again?”

Ziva frowned. “How do you even remember that?”

“Is it Gibbs?”

She let out an annoyed sigh, still unable to meet his eye. “Why do you ask?”

A moment of hesitation passed until Tony asked again, “McGee?”

This was starting to get on her nerves. _Couldn’t he just leave?_ She needed a moment alone with her thoughts, even if just their short break. She needed a moment without _him_ being there, his presence making her fidgety throughout the whole day. And he wasn’t even aware of it, which made her even more annoyed.

“Don’t you have something else to do?” asked Ziva, biting the inside of her cheek. 

“Is it me?”

Her heart skipped a beat, and her mouth suddenly felt too dry to give him a quick reply. 

“So it _is_ me,” Tony said, sounding amused. “How did _I_ get your panties in a twist?”

She met his eyes then. “You did _what_?”

Tony was smiling, that cocky, typical lopsided grin of his. She mentally cursed herself for appreciating the way he was sitting—his body slouched in a clearly provocative manner—but as soon as her treacherous gaze flickered to his torso, she looked away, avoiding the reason of it all.

“You’re flushed,” he said, his eyes sparkling. 

“I am not.” Ziva clenched her jaw.

“Yes, you are. I can see it on your cheeks.” He raised his eyebrows in delight. “Are you feeling hot, or something?”

Yes, she felt the heat creeping up her neck and cursed for letting it happen. She needed to gain some control again, and before she could make more of a fool of herself, Ziva stood up again to see herself out. 

“Leave me alone,” she said, but her voice didn’t sound as determined as she wanted it to. 

He seemed to have noticed it too, asking, “Is that really what you want?”

Ziva didn’t look back to see if he’d followed her, but as she made her way back to the bullpen, Tony’s question still rang in her ears. 

She knew she was in trouble now, but if Tony found out what she really wanted… 

Then she would be in _big_ trouble, that’s for sure.

* * *

Ziva tried to get through her day—focusing on the job and _not_ on the man in front of her—but Tony made it extremely difficult for her to concentrate, blatantly staring at her all afternoon and even throwing paper balls to get on her nerves. She had managed to keep her mouth shut, though, which only made his attempts at throwing her off to escalate, until he was perhaps even more annoyed than she originally was. 

As she opened the bathroom stall, Ziva wasn’t surprised to hear the click of the door closing, even if the sirens started to blast in some part of her mind. 

“We should probably stop meeting in restrooms,” she said, glancing at him from the corner of her vision as she made her way to the sink.

“Why’s that?” asked Tony, sounding amused. 

“You know why.”

Tony huffed at her tone. Yes, they both knew why. “But the lack of disturbance is so… _attractive_.”

Ziva turned the faucet on, not giving him the pleasure of seeing a reaction. Inside, however, was a different story—she could feel her heart erratic in her ribcage, the feeling of tiptoeing close to a dangerous line building up again in her stomach. 

Through the out of focus image of the mirror, she saw Tony walking towards her, his pace slow and lazy as if cornering a prey. And inside a locked restroom, Ziva did feel like one—the air always felt heavy when they were alone like that, without a chance of running away like one of them usually did. 

“What is it?” he queried, and she could feel him closer now, his voice coming from just behind her. 

Biting her lip, Ziva focused on washing her hands instead, thinking just _how_ she could get away from there quickly enough. 

“C’mon,” Tony’s voice betrayed his impatience. “You didn’t even look me in the eye the whole afternoon.”

Ziva kept washing her hands, deliberately not meeting his stare. If she was silent, then he would drop it, there was nothing he could do about it. 

When she turned to dry them, though, she realized he had literally cornered her—Tony’s hands were now resting at the countertop on each side of her body, caging her on the spot. His face hovered inches in front of hers, and Ziva’s mouth went dry at the closeness of his striking blue eyes. She was never sure if they were blue or green, but today they were definitely blue—the comparison with his pale blue shirt proving it so. 

_God_ , it really made the color of his eyes pop out, especially when he wore that light gray suit of his, one of her favorites... 

“Was it something I said?” Tony asked, his breath so close it caressed her cheek. 

Ziva’s pulse was still racing when she replied, “I cannot possibly keep track of all the idiotic things you say.”

Tony’s gaze skimmed her face, lingering on her mouth for a second too long. “What is it?” he repeated, eyes narrowing a little as if he was trying to read her mind. 

Feeling her heart in her throat, Ziva tried to escape, pushing his arm to the side. Tony, however, appeared to have made his mind, his grip on the sink turning unbreakable, even for her. To Ziva’s demise, he stepped even closer, and a breath hitched in her throat when his nose brushed hers, ever so lightly. 

“What is it?” Tony asked again, his eyes now clearly fixed on her mouth. 

Ziva felt her breathing turn heavy, her mouth parting under his intense stare. “It’s…” she found herself saying, hypnotized by the closeness. “It’s the…” 

Would he kiss her back if she brushed her lips against his, or would he back away? If she leaned forward just a bit, their mouths would touch, but would he give in? Should _she_ give in this time?

His eyes met hers again, and they were so intense it made her heart skip a beat. 

Before she could think better of it, she blurted out, “It’s the shoulder holsters.”

A small frown quickly appeared and then vanished, and Ziva saw the corner of his eyes wrinkling before she could see his smile—but soon Tony stepped back and clasped his hands together, barking out a surprised laugh as he bent his body backward. 

“Ziva David is aroused by my _body_?” he asked with a wide grin, his eyes sparkling. 

She felt the heat creeping up her neck, blinking away the sudden self-consciousness. “No.” She rubbed her earlobe and immediately turned to dry her hands, swallowing down the humiliation. “Shoulder holsters.”

“Which I am wearing.”

“Yes,” Ziva admitted through gritted teeth. “The ones you’re wearing.”

“Over my body.”

As she fumbled with the paper towels dispenser, Ziva tried not to conjure up the image of how he looked, but it was almost impossible—she’d been having fantasies about it the whole day. 

Tony rolling up his sleeves on a warm day was something she could keep to herself, but when he’d stripped down from his suit earlier that morning and she saw the leather shoulder holsters that haunted her dreams, Ziva knew it would be almost impossible to fully concentrate. Not when he’d chosen that light blue shirt to go along with it, and _especially not_ when he’d been working out again lately, his arms muscles discernible under the fabric. 

“You’re so cute when you’re all hot and bothered like that.”

She pulled the paper towels again, but luck was really not on her side today. She ended up taking a bunch of them and tried to put some back into the dispenser. 

“I am neither of these things.”

“Really?” He chuckled. “I could sense those Israeli pheromones from the moon.”

Ziva crumpled them into a ball, but just as she was about to toss it in the bin, Tony took it from her hand and made a perfect throw. 

“You need to have sex,” he said nonchalantly.

“ _Excuse me_?” Ziva huffed, her eyes still skimming his broad back against her better judgment. 

“Sex,” Tony smirked and Ziva thought she saw him lick his bottom lip. “Hot, rough sex, that’s what you need.”

“And why…” she started, then crossed her arms. “I do not remember asking for your opinion. And I do not need _sex_.”

“Yeah, you do.” He leaned against the door, and Ziva’s jaw tightened to what mimicking her position did to his biceps. 

Looking her up and down, Tony lifted a brow, declaring, “You need to let all that tension out in moans and screams. You’re practically sizzling.” 

Trying her best to look everywhere but him, Ziva opened the door latch only to realize Tony's weight was blocking the exit, keeping the door shut. 

She inhaled deeply before meeting Tony’s eyes again, and if she could disappear into one of the stalls for the rest of the day, she certainly would, before giving him the satisfaction to see how affected she was by a simple piece of clothing. 

“Excuse me,” Ziva demanded, pulling the door handle.

“You know I’m right on this,” Tony declared, not letting her leave.

Ziva met his eyes then, finding them curious rather than with the expected cockiness. 

“Are you offering?” she mocked, narrowing her eyes. _What was going on through his head?_

“Are you accepting?”

She frowned. Was that just another way to throw her off? He really loved to play their cat and mouse game until they both got tired, but she couldn’t possibly think he was offering casual sex just to ease her needs. 

_Or could she?_

A moment passed and Ziva let go of the handle, tilting her chin up. 

“No,” she said carefully, eyeing him with suspicion. “I do not need _sex_.”

Tony waited for her to continue, his eyebrows raised to the ceiling. 

“But I do…” Ziva added despite herself, “...need a drink.”

Tony blinked away the surprise, then a smile started twitching on his lips. “A drink?”

“Yes,” she gulped.

A smirk quirked up on the side of his mouth. “Your place or mine?” asked Tony smugly.

Ziva inhaled deeply before saying anything, but there was no backing away now. “8 o’clock.”

Tony bit his bottom lip, trying to hide a smile. “Drinks.”

“Yes,” Ziva replied as casually as she could, but her heart was practically jumping from her throat onto the bathroom floor. 

Tony nodded and pursed his lips as he pulled a serious face. “8 o’clock,” he repeated as he took his weight from the door, motioning for her to pass with a duck of his head.

As they left the restroom, Ziva felt him grab her arm not even a second later.

“Look out your window,” Tony leaned in to whisper in her ear. “I’ll be the one wearing the shoulder holsters.”

And even if she wanted, Ziva just couldn’t feel angry at him as Tony gave her a broad, mischievous grin, winking at her before making his way back to his desk. 


	15. Graveyard Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Musketeers shenanigans, but this time in a spooky setting.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Cemetery ⚰️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also known as the one story I wrote more because of the Halloween aesthetics than anything.

A sly black cat crossed his path, its long, curled tail swaying from side to side. It jumped onto one gravestone and stayed, choosing the spot as his residence for the night. The image was so fitting, Tony could’ve sworn he had seen it in a movie somewhere. 

The cat tilted its head towards him, and the piercing gold eyes appeared to know a lot more about the secrets of life than humanly possible. Heavy clouds parted in the sky, revealing a silver moon that illuminated only dimly the rows of tombstones. Dry tree branches swayed with a silent breeze, and as Tony looked down, he missed a step—the fog was too dense to see anything past his knees.

Tony tightened the grip of his flashlight, though not out of fear. No, he was scared of letting it fall and lose it among all that fog, and now he just couldn’t afford that—the scenery was too amazing for him to suddenly go blind. It was as if he was stepping right into a Terence Fisher production, the characteristic spookiness of an approaching Halloween palpable in the chilly air. 

It was perfect, and as he passed by the black cat, Tony cast him a wide grin; thinking for a moment he saw it smile back at him too, following him with its bright eyes. 

“Don’t tell me you never tried it,” Tony said enthusiastically, continuing the conversation they had started in the van. 

He heard McGee let out a tired sigh just behind him, apparently not as thrilled to be there as he was. 

“I’m not a creep,” he huffed.

Tony looked over his shoulder to beam his flashlight in McGee’s face, who protested, clearly annoyed.

“It’s not _creepy_ ,” said Tony, wiggling his eyebrows. He pointed the flashlight to himself and grinned, “It’s exciting.”

“What is?” chimed in Ziva.

Tony smirked towards her. “Having sex in a graveyard,” he replied smugly. “Horny teenagers in the backseat of a car, late hours into the night, the thrilling fear of getting caught?”

He certainly remembered the number of times he sneaked out from his boarding school, and sometimes later during college. There was something really appealing in having a date seek his protection, then end tangled up together under the moonlight, sweaty and breathless in such contrast with the cold late night air.

Ziva’s chuckle took him out of his reverie, and Tony briefly wondered if she would even cling to his arm like the girls he used to date. Was she a different person when she was younger? He really doubted that.

“By the ghosts, you mean,” grunted McGee.

“Says the man who slept in a coffin,” replied Tony, yearning another soft chuckle coming from Ziva. 

“I would not recommend it,” she said.

Tony frowned. “Sleep in a coffin?”

“Sex in a graveyard.”

He huffed in delight. _Of course_ , he mused. Of course, she’d already done it. He wondered if it had been _her_ idea. 

“So _you_ ’ve tried it.” He stopped walking to turn to her, curious to hear more. “What was the most dangerous place you did it?”

Apparently, it had been a good memory because a smirk started to twitch in Ziva’s mouth.

“A bomb storage,” she said as she passed by him, and the sparkle in her eyes made him think back on the too-knowing cat. 

“So the rumors _are_ true.” Tony chuckled, following her. “ _She’s a killer queen_.”

Ziva laughed then, and Tony was sure it had been her idea.

“What about you, Probie?” He asked as McGee matched his pace. “Your living room?”

“A mausoleum.”

Tony chuckled, surprised, then met Ziva’s gaze, who also looked at McGee with her brow raised. 

“Thought Abby had a coffin,” quizzed Tony.

McGee’s brow pulled in, puzzled. “What? No, I mean…” He pointed straight ahead. “A mausoleum.”

And as the three of them followed where he’d pointed, there it was—a tall structure made of angular gray stone, its pillars stained and dirty, revealing the passage of time. A statue of an angel with one broken wing was perched on the top, its arms opened wide as if embracing the fog that now swirled around it.

“Oh,” said Tony, recognizing the name engraved on the stone as their victim’s. 

“Well, nothing can top that,” mused Ziva, following McGee towards the crypt.

Tony’s eyebrows shot skywards. “Is that an offer, David?”

Ziva laughed then, turning over her shoulder to cast him a sly grin. 

“Perhaps in another life, yes?”

She had already disappeared behind the crypt’s entrance when Tony caught the double meaning of her words, barking out a laugh towards the sky and disturbing some crows in the process. He wondered if he would be able to find a bomb storage nearby, but that would probably not be too wise on his part.

He had already crossed a black cat tonight, and if there was something he’d learned with many Terence Fisher’s movies… it was not to mess with too-knowing cats.

Israeli ones included.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As a little note here, I just want to say thank you so much to everyone who has been following this series!!! Your kudos, comments, and support mean so much to me and I'm so happy you're enjoying it :) I cannot believe we're already halfway through with this, but it's been so much fun!!! Sending you all my love and gratitude <3


	16. Blank Page

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony and Ziva actually talk about their feelings and realize that, after Tali, maybe it’s time to take another step into a bright future.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Blankets 📃

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for jess.

Tony licked his lips, sensing her breathing slowing down on his neck. He felt so relaxed his eyelids were threatening to close. Ziva’s weight in his arms was a reminder of the good things in life, and as she drew back to look in his eyes, Tony smiled. Her forehead was beaded with sweat, proof of energy well spent. 

He brushed out a curl from her face, noticing how beautiful she looked with the flush on her cheekbones. 

Ziva’s thumb caressed his temple and she cast him a small smile, asking, “Are you interested in dating other women?”

Tony breathed out a laugh, surprised by the question and her calming deliverance. 

“What?” she quizzed, her brow pulling in.

Tony fought the urge to smile. “I’m literally still inside you.”

Ziva’s eyes trailed his grin and she smiled as well. Her thumbs continued to stroke both his temples, cupping his face.

“French women,” she said almost shyly. “They fancy the American dream.”

Tony wondered what she was thinking, narrowing his eyes a bit as he tried to peek into her head. 

“I’m not really into that anymore.”

“They have nice faces.”

He chuckled, then pressed a kiss to her nose. “ _You_ have a nice face. Beautiful even.” 

Ziva smiled softly and inhaled, her expression turning contemplative again. 

“Hey,” Tony called, trying to meet her eyes. “What’s this about?”

She looked at him for a moment, gaze skimming his face. Sighing, Ziva’s hands fell to his naked chest, and Tony placed his own around her waist. 

“I am just…” She shook her head. “Thinking. About Tali. About us. I mean… I know we have a daughter now, but… The two of us.” Her eyes found his again, a flicker of uncertainty in them. “Things changed. And then they just happened so fast I wondered… What do you think about it?”

“About…” Tony cautioned, “Us?”

“Yes.”

Ziva’s chest deflated as if she had been holding a breath. Seeing this was about to become an important conversation, Tony slipped out of her, laying down on the bed. He wasn’t surprised that thoughts like this passed her mind, but sometimes it was just unexpected. The Ziva of now just shared them with him as soon as they happened, and it was something he was still getting used to. Years of holding things back hadn’t been as much of good training.

He beckoned her closer, holding the blanket up for her to lay down beside him. Ziva snuggled herself on top of his chest, letting her hair fall around her. He briefly wondered if she could hear his steady heartbeat from where her head was placed.

“If I’d listened to the voice in my head earlier,” Tony said as his fingers made slow patterns down her arm, “We would’ve been together for years now.”

“Really?” Her voice was almost a whisper.

He pressed a kiss to the mass of her hair. “Without a doubt.”

“Oh.”

“Are you…” His fingers halted. “Having doubts?”

Ziva tensed and then relaxed. “No.” She raised one of her hands to play with the hairs of his chest. “No, I am just thinking. The conversation we had the other day…”

“Ah,” replied Tony with a huff. He knew that since they’d discussed it last week, it was bound to reappear again. He just didn’t expect it to be so soon. Apparently, it had bothered her to a degree that it was the first thing she’d brought up after sex. Well, he couldn’t deny it was usually the best time to put the cards on the table. Vulnerability was way easier when naked anyway. 

“I mean, I completely understand,” she breathed. “It’s just…”

“Hard.”

“Yes.” 

Tony fought the urge to laugh but couldn’t, the sound escaping his lips. Ziva propped her elbow onto the bed, turning to face him. Her forehead was creased, but it appeared to be more out of confusion than anger. 

“Why are you laughing?” she asked, eyes skimming his face.

“I find it funny.” Tony just couldn’t refrain from smiling, not she was in his arms with that after-sex glow like that, looking at him with big brown eyes. 

Beautiful. 

“What?” 

“You think marriage is too big of a step, yet you want another little us running around.” 

Tony beamed and the corners of Ziva’s mouth tilted upwards, perhaps charmed by his grin. They had discussed this some months after they got together, right after Ziva settled into his and Tali’s routine. It was a bit shocking at first, but natural all the same. Both of them knew they weren’t the usual couple, but after all those years, there was just no other path than to stay together. A reality without her just didn’t exist in his eyes. 

Tony proposed after a week of rehearsed speeches to the mirror and years of pushing the thought away to the back of his head. He picked a restaurant, then lost the ring and it all went downhill from there… Only for Ziva to ask him for more time. 

She knew he would give her anything she’d asked for at that point, but it hurt all the same. His ego wasn’t used to being bruised like that, and perhaps it had been fate that made him lose the ring before he could get down on his knee in front of everyone. 

And some part of him knew she was right. Yes, they had spent years together—moving backwards and wasting time—but it all felt different now. They both knew each other so well, nothing could compare to the reality of them just being together, under the same roof. 

Until Ziva had asked about his opinion on a second child. 

He would never forget how he’d felt. Yes, it had been a secret dream of his perhaps since he’d found out she had Tali—to be a parent with her. To experience it all _with_ her, things that they missed the first time. It felt exhilarating, knowing she wanted them to have that chance.

Though it wasn’t easy to digest. An old, insecure part of him wanted to do everything right and Tony wasn’t certain if not going by the book would assure them the happiness he wanted to give her. Wasn’t they supposed to get married, then live together, and _then_ have a child? 

That conversation happened a couple of weeks earlier, and it made him rethink a lot of things. Yes, of course, he wanted to build a family with her. Yes, they could stay like partners forever without any contract if that’s what she wanted—as long as he had her. 

Yes, he could see them finding happiness together, even if they just didn’t move at all, even if they just stayed glued to that bed and tangled in bedsheets for the rest of their days—if that wasn’t happiness, then he didn’t know what it was. 

“It’s not that crazy, y’know.”

Ziva’s eyebrows lifted, only slightly, as if she couldn’t hold back the surprise.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I mean…” Tony smiled softly. “I want what you want. Whether it’s staying together, or a child or just breathing the same air... I just want to see you happy.”

Ziva’s hand lifted to brush his hair out of his face. “I also want that. With you.”

Tony felt a weight being lifted from his shoulders when she smiled, one he didn’t even know it was there in the first place. 

“So…” he cautioned, “What are you thinking?”

Ziva skimmed his face. “I want to experience it,” she replied softly. “It’s such a selfish thing, but I want to have you by my side. I know…”

“Hey.” Tony lifted her chin, making their eyes meet again. “We’ve talked about this, huh? No beating yourself up.”

Ziva’s expression softened. “Right,” she breathed.

“Stop it.”

“Right.”

A small smile appeared and Tony pulled her gently by the neck to press a soft kiss on her lips, one he hoped it could convey the things he felt. 

“You’re the love of my life, Ziva,” he stated, something he always thought he didn’t say enough. “You know that, right?” 

Ziva smiled softly, kissing the palm that cupped her cheek. 

“You’re my partner,” he added. “God, you could ask me to just stay like this for the rest of our days, and I would die happy. So happy.”

“What about a child?” Her eyes watched his reaction carefully, not pushing any further. 

“I think…” Tony let out a sigh. “I’m just worried. We already have Tali and she’s perfect, I don’t know if… I don’t know if we can pull that off again.”

“You’re a wonderful father, Tony.” 

Her fingers still played with his hair and Tony felt himself calm down, the relaxing after-orgasm feeling hitting him again. 

“Yeah…” He smiled. “I’m just concerned they’ll get more of your genes this time. Mine are obviously better.”

She smiled as well. “Obviously.”

“Hm,” he pursed his lips, tilting her head a little to press them to her hairline.

“I think we should try it.”

“Before… getting married?”

“We’ve been acting like a married couple for years.”

Tony chuckled. “That’s true.”

Ziva searched his eyes again, placing her lips softly against his before asking, “Hm?”

He smiled through the kiss. “Alright.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She drew back then, and her eyes were sparkling. God, how come he’d been this lucky? 

“Just don’t have twins,” he said, yearning a low laugh from her that reverberated across his chest.

“I thought you weren’t on board.”

“A man needs to adapt quickly.”

Ziva kissed him again, the kiss lingering this time. He closed his eyes, savoring it. His hand dug into her hair, pulling her closer. 

“I love you,” she said after some time.

Tony opened his eyes and was met with the beautiful picture of her face still very close to his. 

“I love you, too.”

“Let’s just see where it takes us, is that okay?”

He nodded, then breathed out a laugh. “God knows how Tali was accidental. Leaving this to chance just makes me think of a thousand little ninjas just knocking things over all the time.”

“Is that too bad?”

“With you?” His heart skipped a beat at Ziva's soft smile, and he wondered how she still managed to do that after all those years. 

“No,” Tony replied. “No, it’s not.”

Ziva smiled then, this wide, blinding grin that made him fall in love all over again. 

“I think we will be alright,” she said as she snuggled herself back onto his chest. 

“We’ll be fine, sweetheart.” Tony pressed a kiss to the mass of her hair. “We’ll be fine.”


	17. Yellow Brick Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alone in the hideout from Sahar, Ziva finds herself doing something she didn’t expect, which brings back memories from the past.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Scarecrow 🌾

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> also known as - if you chose to read one story of this whole series, **please let this be the one**.

Heavy rain poured down on the gray tiles of the sidewalk. There was enough water on the street to reflect the blurry traffic lights and undefined skylines, at least until a car passed by and splashed it all over the closed stores. Umbrellas piled up in front of a popular restaurant and some moved across the street, but Ziva’s vision was out of focus enough to only distinguish them as blurs of color, disappearing quickly.

It had been hours since she had passed the point of tiredness, now breathing only out of instinct. Her eyelids burned but she kept them open, watching the skies fall. 

It was rare for her to need a break like this, though it was turning even more frequent these days. She could only track Sahar down for so long - with just a name, the mysterious woman quickly vanished only to reappear again in another city a few weeks later - and after so many failed attempts of getting to her, Ziva decided to wait until they came to her instead. 

That usually didn’t take long. 

A taxi stopped just in front of her and a man rushed to open the door, motioning for a woman just behind him to enter ahead. She did so hurriedly, holding what looked like the man’s suit over her head as she disappeared into the backseat of the car. 

A second later, the man did the same, hastily running a hand through his wet hair before disappearing. Ziva thought she saw him smile to himself, but the car sped up and she lost track of them before she could confirm. 

Two strangers she would never see again, nor hear the end of their story. 

She didn’t really process how or why, but suddenly she found her reflection staring back at her, heavy bags under her eyes and hair dripping wet. Ziva blinked, realizing she had crossed the street and now stood in front of the glass door she’d been watching from the opposite side all evening.

Before she could change her mind, Ziva’s hands moved on their own accord and pulled the door open. Blaming the tiredness for her poor choices, she stepped into the movie theater, searching for the ticket booth.

The air conditioning of the room made her soaked clothes feel cold. She picked a spot near the exit, blending into the shadows. In a second she had memorized all viable routes of escape, but it had been more out of habit than from a real necessity. 

Her heart was in her throat when the main title started to play. It was this loud melody with a classic tune to it, the high notes revealing the passage of time. As the title appeared, nostalgia burned in her chest. It had been too long since she’d last seen it, way too long.

_“I thought this was a colored one.”_

_“Do you really want me to spoil it to you, woman?”_

_“I’ve read the book, you know.”_

_“Then how come you always manage to quote it wrong?”_

_“How do you know they’re the right lines? Perhaps they’re different in the book.”_

_“I wouldn’t know.”_

_“Yes. Exactly. You would not know.”_

_“Don’t brag now. You’re the one who hasn't seen a movie that’s seventy years old.”_

_“I had other things to do.”_

_“That’s older than Gibbs.”_

_“That’s older than you.”_

_“Miss David. You hurt me this way.”_

_“Shush. It’s about to start.”_

_“You… Wicked Witch of the West.”_

_“Hm… Doesn’t she die?”_

_“You’ll have to watch and see.”_

It knocked the breath out of her. She already knew it was coming, but the sudden change from sepia to technicolor was still a marvelous thing to see. Bright colors invited the viewer to enter this brand new world, and Ziva let herself get lost in the songs and the details. 

The room was almost empty, some people scattered across the rows ahead. She wondered if they had seen this movie before. Probably, considering how old it was. Though she knew the story by heart, it was because she’d read the book a dozen times while growing up, it being a classic in her mother’s personal library. 

He had teased her the whole day when he discovered she’d never watched it. She remembered it clearly—quoting lines and singing lyrics, he’d succeeded in driving her crazy enough for her to give in, which led to them renting a DVD copy on a free Friday night. She brought the beers and he led the place, the one between them who had a television at home. 

Tony’s selective memory always surprised her, though his insistence in getting under her skin was a force on its own. He would bug her until he got what he wanted, and she was used to it—most times great at fighting back—but some days she just wanted to give in and see that typical smile of his, the one that stretched over his face until the corners of his eyes got wrinkled. 

She could picture it so clearly, the image still imprinted under her eyelids.

It was a memory she visited often, that day. It had been one of those moments no one could know it would become a memory until it did. Their laughter, the sureness of safety and the genuine feeling of happiness were things that still warmed her heart, whenever she thought of it. They were so young and worry-free, she always felt a sting of regret for not cherishing the moment more when it was happening. 

Dorothy reached a crossroad, unsure of which path to go next. When the Scarecrow changed the arm that pointed where to go, some people chuckled, and Ziva smiled weakly. He had always been her favorite one of the group. There was something really endearing about his clumsiness and care. He was smarter than he would ever know, and it was a charming quality she rarely saw in people.

“How can you talk if you haven’t got a brain?” quizzed Dorothy, tilting her head. 

“I don’t know,” replied the Scarecrow. “But some people without brains do an awful lot of talking, don't you think?”

_“Yes!”_

_“And what do you mean by that?”_

_“Nothing.”_

_“Yeah… Right.”_

_“What? It’s true. Plus, he’s cute.”_

_“He’s a scarecrow.”_

_“So…?”_

_“Don’t tell me you’re turned on by a scarecrow.”_

_“I did not say I was ‘turned on’. You are wiggling my words.”_

_“Twisting.”_

_“I thought it had been a twister.”_

_“Just… Watch. See? Now your scarecrow is also part of the narrative.”_

_“I like him.”_

_“Sometimes I just can’t respect you.”_

_“He talks a lot.”_

_“You say that to me all the time!”_

_“Well, you do talk a lot.”_

_“Are you admitting to like me, David?”_

_“I will call Ducky right away. We finally solved it - your brain is there, only it is made out of straw.”_

_“Ha-ha. Very funny.”_

_“Hm.”_

Ziva felt her heart clench when the thought of Tony showing it to Tali crossed her mind. Had he done the same? Was he excited over little details and quoted its famous lines just like he did with her? Or did it remind him of _them_? Did they ever get the chance to watch it together or he avoided it? She certainly stared at the movie theater marquise for hours before she gave in, the tiredness making her too vulnerable. 

She missed him so much her bones ached from it. 

Ziva wondered if she would ever feel the same again. That flickering in her chest whenever they spoke in riddles, both of them catching each other’s stolen glances more frequently than not. They had always been good in sharing non-verbal cues, and even if they bickered until one of them got tired, the silence was the one thing she missed the most. 

To be able to be understood like that by someone else, it was the closest she had ever been to love.

“Oh,” confided Dorothy to the Scarecrow, “I think I’ll miss you most of all.”

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, saying goodbye. Both of them were too emotional to say anything else, Dorothy wiping the tears with her hand and him giving her a sad smile. There was something incredibly bittersweet to have known it would have come to this all along. 

Ziva struggled to breathe. She didn’t recall when exactly she had started crying, but she couldn’t see a thing now. There were only blurs. 

She tried to remember the last time she did cry. Her chest ached from keeping it silent, the loud beating of her heart the only thing she could hear. She knew it would happen as soon as she bought that ticket, but there was something quite soothing about being in a dark room where no one else knew her. 

She could finally be free, even if for a brief moment.

Ziva stood up before the credits started rolling. Hastily wiping the tears from her face, she exited to the street, hoping for once that she was really invisible, and no one would approach her now. 

The rain had stopped. It was much darker now, though the street lights seemed brighter. The line of people outside of the restaurant had disappeared, probably already inside. Some taxis were available at the other side of the street, but she preferred walking. She couldn’t take any risks now, knowing she could quickly become the prey. 

Ziva looked up to the sky, clenching her jaw. Letting the cold air inundate her lungs, she tried to ease her breathing. Tony and Tali were somewhere safe, far away from there, but at least they were under the very same sky. She wondered if it was raining there. She wondered if they were okay. 

Closing her eyes, she pictured them again. Happy. She needed them happy, even if it meant they had found happiness without her. There was no other way to keep her going, other than to imagine them alive. Even if it looked like nothing more than a dream, she needed them there, safe, tucked away in her heart.

When Ziva opened her eyes again, the sadness had already been buried. 

With Dorothy’s words still ringing in her mind, she ducked her head, following the gray brick road into an adjacent alleyway. 

_There is no place like home_ , she had said. 

And wishing for nothing more than a pair of ruby slippers, Ziva David disappeared into the shadows. 


	18. Falling For You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony just isn’t able to contain whatever he is "feeling".  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Hayride 💘

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be completely honest, I had no idea what ‘hayride’ meant, so this is my take on a story surrounding an awful lot of hay haha oops features some confusing feelings and unfair libidos.

It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t. Maybe it was this annoying, almost familiar pang at the pit of his stomach, but if he lied to himself long enough, he could blame the barbecue sandwich he had for lunch and leave it be. 

Tony looked down from the first floor of the barn to study the man again. 

With his broad shoulders and sculpted arms, the farmer looked idly bored as he waited for them to search through the piles of hay, slouching against one of the pillars as he chewed on a straw. It had been a couple of hours since they were trying to find a missing slug that had accidentally pierced through one of the walls, its trajectory coming from another farmhouse miles away. So far, no luck. 

It usually didn’t bother him. How some guys were more ripped than him, that was. It only meant that Tony was dedicated to his job, otherwise, he would’ve had the free time to bulk up as much as they did. 

Though he had _had_ the time to drive to the other side of town to get Sally’s special barbecue sandwich that morning but… It was worth it. That had been a hell of a finger-licking sandwich. 

The guy glanced upwards again, and Tony puffed up his chest. He didn’t look away, and when a smirk started to twitch at the corner of his mouth, Tony made sure to put his hands on his hips, _accidentally_ displaying his badge as he did so. He could show off his calendar figure all he wanted, but Tony was still the authority there. They both knew that.

The younger man was the first one to call off the staring match, and Tony felt a flicker of pride. 

_That’s right, cowboy_. No one messes with a federal agent, and especially not with his girl.

Girl? Where did that come from? Gun, he meant gun. 

Tony glanced at Ziva, scared that for a moment she could’ve read his mind. Half hoping that she had actually done, he suddenly felt like an idiot, because she continued to search for the missing slug, completely oblivious to the peacock fight happening right next to her. 

The familiar discomfort flickered again inside his chest. It wasn’t annoyance, it wasn’t excitement, it was… nervousness? Worry, perhaps? But worry about _what_ , exactly? He knew Ziva for years now, it shouldn’t matter what she thought of him by then. She was his coworker, and that was as far as they could go, and why was he even thinking about it? It wasn’t as if she would break any rules for him. 

That woman was more dedicated to the job than anything, and their bickering was just how they communicated. It meant nothing. Yes, it was fun, and it had always felt strangely natural, but that was all it was. A game. Mindless banter just to pass the time, and he knew that. She didn’t really think about it, and he also knew that. 

It confused him so much Tony had decided for some time now it was better to ignore it, whatever it was that she made him feel. 

He eyed the farmer again, wondering what she had seen in him to respond so openly to his flirting earlier. Of course, Ziva had always been skilled in flirting with men - especially ones that could easily be intimidated by her - but it bugged him for some reason. Tony didn’t know exactly why, but with every guy she did that, he just wanted to punch them in the face. 

It wasn’t jealousy. It wasn’t.

“It might not be too smart to use it here.”

Tony jumped a little, his heart beating faster as he turned to face her. He prayed that the heat he was feeling on his cheeks wasn’t visible. Then Ziva gave him an amused look, arching an eyebrow, and his heart did that weird thing when it went still and then started racing, tattooing the inside of his ribs.

“Use what?” asked Tony, clearing his throat. 

Ziva cast him a sly smile. “Your laser vision,” she teased, motioning with her chin to the ground floor, “This is a haystack. It might catch fire while we’re still inside.”

“Ha-ha,” Tony returned the tight smile. “The air is too damp for that.” 

Tony looked downwards again to eye the man with suspicion, narrowing his eyes when he caught him ogling Ziva again. “It’s always reasonable to assess the competition,” he said more to himself than to her.

“I like fall,” she stated, and he wondered if she had listened to what he’d said. “Sweater weather, yes?”

Ziva motioned vaguely in his direction, and Tony remembered he was wearing a gray sweater today. Did that mean she had liked his sweater? Oh, she would most definitely look good in it… real good. 

Tony shook his head, tightening his jaw as he tried to calm down his confused libido. She was just talking about the weather, it was only small talk. His mind was putting words in her mouth, and suddenly Tony felt really frustrated. Couldn’t things be black and white, at least for once? A habit of speaking in riddles really screwed up his brain sometimes. 

“What’s the point?” Tony whined. “It would only be good if money did grow on trees.”

Ziva frowned. “Why would money grow on trees?”

Tony glared at her. Not quite believing how oblivious she was, he huffed, “Sometimes I—”

His words were cut short when Ziva let out a strangled cry, and Tony turned just in time to see her disappearing down below, falling from the rather high first floor of the barn. 

Rushing towards her, relief flooded him the same time something resembling anger started to boil inside his chest. 

She looked a bit disheveled and wide-eyed in the arms of the young farmer, as if not quite believing she had fallen from so high and managed to get away with it. The man smiled broadly towards her, clearly proud of having caught her. Tony was certain now the heat in his cheeks was visible. He felt his whole face burn for that matter - the guy had no business holding her so tightly like that. 

“Woah,” said the farmer. “I guess…” his smile widened, “You’re falling for me.”

“Oh, for God’s—” Tony wondered how long someone would take to discover a body there because right at that moment, he really wanted to kill the guy. That was already a crime scene anyway, it would make no difference.

Feeling his blood boil, Tony hastily took the stairs down, stomping his feet. “What?” he barked when both of them glared pointedly at his storming entrance. “No _‘Rapunzel, let down your hair!_ ’ for me?”

Ziva sent the farmer an apologetic look as if to say thank you and then turned to him, her eyebrows shooting upwards to the barn’s roof. Tony didn’t miss how her hand had stayed for far too long on the guy’s chest, nor how they’d shared smirks between them when he’d let her to the ground. This was getting ridiculous, and even if he hated the color of the navy yard walls, Tony would pay a lot just to be there instead.

“Tony,” Ziva said with narrowing eyes, then gave up and sighed, “Don’t be too harsh on him. Johnny was just trying to help.”

“ _Johnny_?” Tony huffed a perplexed laugh, “I thought you’d be calling him ‘dear’ by now.”

Ziva watched him for a moment, and any comeback he was expecting didn’t happen when she smiled to herself and started looking for the bullet again, going through the piles of hay. 

The ache in Tony’s chest increased a thousandfold. Was she laughing at him? Could this woman be more confusing than she already was?

Then he remembered she had actually fallen from the first floor, and the fact that she was walking was a miracle by itself.

“You okay?” He tried to meet her eye but couldn’t, busing himself to search for that missing piece of evidence instead. 

“Yes,” was her quiet reply.

The sirens inside his head started blaring. Had he done something wrong? He needed to learn how to control his reactions more. Was she actually okay? Or was she lying about what she felt like they were used to do? He wished he was the one who’d caught her instead. What was he _thinking_? He knew she knew how to take care of herself, but it was his job to have her back. And he failed once again, however minimum that had been. 

“It would take less time finding a needle around here,” Tony tried to clear the air, hoping Ziva would forget the jealous incident. 

Jealousy? No, not jealousy. More of a brotherly type of protection. Yes, that’s what that was. 

“I thought we were meant to find a bullet,” she replied, glancing at him with a soft smile from where she was crouched down. A weight he didn’t know he was carrying disappeared, his chest hurting a little less. She seemed alright, considering. 

“Sometimes I really envy your brain, David.” Tony offered a weak laugh, glancing at her with caution. 

“At least I have one.”

“You think Dear John’s cowboy hat is big enough to fit his?”

Damn, it was amazing how sometimes his filter could fail him. As soon as the words left Tony’s mouth, he winced, cursing to himself. His brain felt like scrambled eggs, confusion making it impossible to block his own unconscious. 

“He was right, though,” she said. “About falling.”

Tony’s heart fell, insecurities bringing a bitter taste to his tongue. Of course, she would make advances on the guy. Of course. It was too easy of a target and Ziva would be a fool not to enjoy that. Sure, _he_ was known for having more dates than most, but he hadn’t had one in what felt like forever. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, but she sure wasn’t doing the same. 

“For him?” asked Tony, a bit annoyed, trying to hide his disappointment. He just wanted to go home. 

“In love.”

He frowned. 

What? 

Tony looked at her, finding Ziva already watching him. It was a different kind of look, cautious, almost curious. He wondered what she was thinking. If she had really meant what he was thinking she had… Damn, he knew exactly what that tingle in his stomach was about. 

“And what… What do you mean by—” Tony stuttered, the way his heart was racing feeling really unfair.

She smiled, the butterflies inside his chest fluttering again at how her eyes sparkled. 

“We should go,” Ziva said, showing the palm of her hand. “I found it.”

The missing slug felt like a Christmas present in mid-October, and when she stepped forward to press a soft kiss to his right cheek, Tony felt like it was really December. 

Money didn’t grow on trees, but maybe this Fall wouldn’t be so bad. 

Ziva bid the farmer goodbye and they left the barn behind, Tony managing to reach the car before a grin stretched across his face.


	19. Mummy of the Year

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva is worried about Halloween costumes and Tony helps her (though in his own way).  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Halloween Costumes 🎈

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my mind, this is the worst of their worries <3

He entered the bedroom looking for Ziva to find her studying her reflection in the mirror, her forehead creased slightly. He quickly noted how amazing she looked with only a bra, but decided not to comment on it. He did it frequently enough to already know her reaction, the roll of her eyes forever imprinted in his mind. 

“Hey,” said Tony, trying to understand why she looked so disappointed. 

“Hi,” Ziva replied, letting out a frustrating sigh. 

“What’s wrong?”

She turned to him, and only then did he notice the shirt she was holding. 

“This fitted me a week ago and now it just shrank,” she pouted, not really sad but looking upset nonetheless. 

“Right.” Tony raised one of his eyebrows. “It wasn’t _you_ the one who grew.”

Ziva’s expression turned dry, a glare thrown in his direction. Tony pressed his lips together to keep from smiling, though it proved to be an impossible task. Not when Ziva was nearly eight months pregnant, carrying what their doctor had described as ‘a rather large boy, eager to live in the outside world’; and _especially_ not when she looked upset for something he found so beautiful. 

He just couldn’t help it. Every day felt like a dream. 

“Fine,” Tony nodded, swallowing down the laughter. “I didn’t say a word,” he said apologetically, opening his palms in a defensive manner. 

“Yes, you did,” she accused. Narrowing her eyes, Ziva met his gaze through the mirror before huffing, “Now I have nothing to wear.”

Tony opened up a lazy smile. “For all I care, you could wear nothing and still look beautiful.”

“Hm,” she said, and he was pleased to see a small smile now dancing on her lips. 

Tony stepped closer to embrace Ziva from behind, pressing a kiss to her bare shoulder before looking up to watch her from the mirror. 

“You look beautiful, you know that, right?” He let his hands trail her round belly, kissing the side of her hair before whispering against it, “You were so right when you said you could still pull it off.”

Ziva chuckled, and the sound warmed his heart. Raising one of her eyebrows, she stated, “Well, I can not appear in Tali’s school dressed in nothing.”

There was a little Halloween party planned for two days from then, one that Tony would have completely forgotten if it was not for Tali constantly babbling about it and wearing her princess costume to everything she did, perusing in it around the house every single day. 

“Please?” Tony pleaded with a pout, but it quickly turned into a chuckle when Ziva shot him a pointed glare. 

He briefly kissed her hair again before stepping back to lean against the closet countertop.

“Don’t worry,” he said, offering her a soft smile. “I’ve got just the costume.”

“What is it?” Ziva turned to him, her expression hopeful again. 

“You know that movie we watched last week?”

She frowned. “About that creepy clown dancing?”

The way she described movies never ceased to amuse him.

“Yeah, that one.”

“You want me to dress up as a _clown_?” she objected.

“No,” Tony shook his head, then pointed a thumb to himself, saying, “I’m the clown.” He tried to fight the urge to smile but was already failing.

“Tali wears the yellow coat,” he added with a wide grin, “And you can be the red balloon!”

Ziva’s smile dropped the same time Tony burst out laughing, bending his body forward as he felt the tears already pooling in his eyes. 

“What?” He said between breaths of laughter, “I’ll even hold your hand!” 

Wiping his cheeks, Tony felt another income of hysteria when Ziva’s expression turned even more serious. 

“It’s perfect!” he said, his stomach already starting to hurt. 

Ziva threw the shirt on his face with such a force, Tony thought he must have really offended her, until he looked up again to see her fighting a smile, shaking her head as if to say he was a lost cause.


	20. Despite All Odds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva plans a date on an apple tree orchard, and an important conversation ensues.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Apple-Picking 🍎

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for olivia.

Aiming for that one apple hanging a just bit too high on the tree, Ziva stretched herself as best as she could but still wasn’t able to reach it. The basket around her elbow was already halfway full, but the harvest season had been great - she could’ve easily filled two of them if she wanted. 

A light breeze fanned her hair. From that level of the ladder, she could see the many symmetrical rows of apple trees stretching over the farm hills until they disappeared into a valley below. The sky was cloudy, but that was expected. It was the middle of October, the fall season having reached its peak. 

It was her favorite season. It calmed her. She liked to drink tea on the windy afternoons and drape the cushions with blankets, ones that would warm her whenever she chose to read. There was something incredibly soothing in watching the leaves changing colors and knowing that time didn’t hold still. That she could also change with it if she wanted to. 

It had been her idea to come. She thought it would be nice to do something outside for a change. Even if it was cozy to stay inside next to a fireplace, in her eyes, nothing would compare to feel the wind in her face, the smell of nature surrounding her. 

Ziva looked down to find Tony watching her, his fingers laced behind his head from where he was laying down under one of the trees. 

“You know this is a date, right?”

He opened a lazy smile. “Yeah.”

“So you’re just going to lay down there and watch?”

Tony looked around him, taking in the picnic cloth placed under the tree shade, the bottle of red wine they were sharing without any glasses (he’d forgotten them inside the dishwasher), and the already empty picnic basket; shrugging with his hands still laced behind his head. 

“Sounds good to me,” he motioned with a chin to where she stood on the ladder, his eyes still lazily watching her. 

“Wow,” said Ziva, rolling her eyes. 

“What?” Tony protested, bending forward to sit down. “What do you want me to do?” he complained, but there was a smile in his voice. “It’s a picnic. We even brought that fancy basket I thought wasn't a real thing until now.” He motioned to the picnic basket, lifting his brow. 

“And I’m eating healthy, see?” Tony raised a hand to pluck one of the apples off the tree and took a bite of it. “Progress,” he added with his mouth full. “You should be pleased.”

“Fine,” Ziva shook her head, giving up and turning to face the tree again. “I’ll do the apple-picking. Just… Let me know if you spot anything good so I can grab them.”

One moment she was appreciating the view of the orchard down below, and a moment later, Ziva felt the air being sucked out of her lungs, an arm grabbing her middle to pull her down to the ground. 

“Tony!” Ziva screeched, trying to find her balance as she felt both her feet leave the ladder.

The apples tumbled down to scatter across the ground, making her once almost full basket now feel near empty. Tony held her from behind, his body directly under where she was laying down under another tree’s foliage. 

“Sorry,” he hastily kissed her hair, tightening his grip. “Thought you’d asked to grab what I thought was good.”

Wondering if she would ever get tired of his flirting, Ziva chuckled, relaxing in Tony’s arms. A grin stretched across her face when he started planting kisses everywhere, from her hair to her face, his legs tangling with hers. 

Ziva turned her head to face him, finding his lips in no time. The kiss was soft and slow, as if they had all the time in the world. First, only their lips were pressed together, then Tony’s tongue brushed against her mouth in silent invitation and she opened it, meeting him halfway. 

Her hands found his short hair and tugged it softly, receiving a praising groan from him immediately. In a matter of seconds, Tony untangled their legs only for Ziva to straddle him, raising them to a sitting position. 

He beckoned her closer, his tongue exploring her lazily. Ziva could still taste the red wine they had shared directly from the bottle, the cool sensation of his mouth turning the kiss addictive. 

Tony groaned again when she bucked her hips closer, the sound coming from the back of his throat. Ziva just really couldn’t help it, not with his hands tugging her hair at the back of her neck, and really not when he was _clearly_ enjoying it - his jeans feeling tighter underneath her. 

He let out a protesting whimper when she broke the kiss, cupping his cheeks. 

Ziva found his eyes heavy, a look of affection mixed with clear lust. 

She studied the way his freckles were fading, now with the summer long gone. His arms still hugged her tight, pulling her as close as possible until there wasn’t any space between them. Ziva briefly kissed him one more time and felt his lips linger before she drew back again. 

“Did you always think it would have come to this?” she asked, raising a hand to run through his hair. 

Tony watched her closely, a slight frown appearing. “What do you mean?”

“Us,” Ziva replied, catching the sparkle in his eyes once he understood. “This… What we have. Was it something expected?”

“Hmm,” Tony narrowed her eyes slightly before replying, “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, you couldn’t stop flirting with me, so…” He opened a slow grin. “What can a guy do?” 

Ziva rolled her eyes, deciding not to comment on the matter. Both of them knew he flirted way more, especially lately. She mentally noted to reflect upon it later. 

“You?” Tony asked, his gaze suddenly curious. 

Ziva chose her words carefully. “I never…” she breathed, meeting his eyes again, “I never saw it coming.”

Tony’s brow shot up. “Really?”

Ziva nodded after a moment. “Really.”

“Someone as predictable as me?”

“You surprise me more than you think.”

A flicker of amazement passed his eyes, and Ziva offered him a small smile. 

Smiling as well, Tony fixed his gaze on her mouth for a moment before he raised his thumb to brush at her cheekbone. 

“It was inevitable,” he said quietly, and Ziva wondered if he’d meant more to himself than to her. 

“Nothing is inevitable.”

“I know, I mean… Not about being attracted to each other, but…” Tony sighed, trying to find the right words. “It always felt like… Like it was something already bound to happen. It felt too natural. The way we talked, the jokes we made… God, even the stuff I didn’t say,” he chuckled. “It’s like you knew me more than I did.”

Ziva smiled. “Written in the stars?”

He snorted, shaking his head, “Don’t make me puke now. That one apple really was the one healthy thing I’ve had all week.”

“Good heavens.”

“You should really start cooking something else other than Italian food.”

“I am using your roots to try to sweep you off your feet.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up and his eyes sparkled, the arms around her middle pulling her closer.

“Consider me swept,” he said. “My cholesterol thank you.” 

Ziva chuckled and Tony’s eyes followed hers, affection so clear in his gaze it made her chest tighten. 

He raised a hand to brush a strand of hair off her face. The air turned intense again, but a different kind. They looked at each other as if they both knew that what they felt was real, and rare and true. It was the certainty that they were partners, and right for each other. It was difficult to find, that type of understanding. 

“I am madly in love with you,” said Tony, as if it was already a known fact. “Since the beginning. Despite all odds, I always knew.”

“You make it sound so…”

“Romantic?”

“I was going to say Victorian.”

He chuckled, shaking his head before his smart eyes met hers again. 

“I was trying to sweep you off your feet,” he smiled. “I love you. God, Ziva, you changed my life.”

Ziva was amazed that he still managed to make her heart flutter, even after all those years together. She had never felt something like it, the love she felt for this man, and for once it wasn’t suffocating. It felt right, and even if she didn’t see it coming, now she couldn’t imagine it happening any other way. 

“I think…” She ran her hand through his short hair again, “I love you, too.”

Tony huffed, his eyes sparkling, “You _think_?”

Ziva pursed her lips. “I am not sure… If all the dates with you are like this, I may have to step up my game.” She gave him a smile, one that wrinkled the corner of her eyes. 

“You are the game, Zi.”

“And you, Anthony DiNozzo,” she bopped a finger to his nose, “Are the best plot twist a girl could have.”

His lips tugged upwards. “Movie reference?”

“Calm, now. I am not that desperate.”

Tony huffed as if he knew the truth and his lips met hers again. 

Then he kissed her. Softly, lazily, taking his time. Ziva let him pull her down on top of him, their legs tangling together again. 

Under that apple tree orchard, Ziva had never felt more at peace. Despite all odds, she knew.

He was right, after all.

Somehow, this, them… what they had—everything had been inevitable. 


	21. Sweet Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony finds himself alone in a rather strange looking crime scene, and has no other choice than to act. Established Tiva.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Fake Blood 🩸

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> many references to The Shining because I wanted it spooky but not that creepy. Borderline crack to be honest. I have no regrets at this point.

Tony looked over his shoulder again, the prickling sensation at the back of his neck driving him to do it. He was certain he saw some motion at the end of the corridor, but with a blink, it was gone. 

It could have easily been just a figment of his imagination—the rectangular shapes of the carpet and the series of closed doors were strangely similar to the famous hallway of The Shining—and it wouldn’t have surprised him in the least if a boy just appeared riding a tricycle towards him out of nowhere.

As soon as Tony entered the hotel, though, something didn’t feel right. There were no guests. Of course, that could’ve happened - it was off-season after all. 

But there was no one. 

No staff, no concierge, not even a doorman. He tried to see it as a good thing - as few people as possible on a crime scene made their job a lot easier - but he just couldn’t shake the feeling there was something wrong. The hotel was old, but cleaned meticulously - every surface was spotless to a point where he could see his own reflection in the pillars of the hall. 

_If it was an abandoned place, how could it be so well maintained?_

It also didn’t help that Tony was alone. Just last Friday, he’d watched the movie again—the image of Jack chasing his wife with an ax still pretty clear in his mind—and now the long corridor felt too familiar for comfort. He’d taken the stairs (nothing related to the scene of blood gushing out from the elevator, he’d told himself) and now the team was still to arrive at the scene. 

He tried not to dwell on why they’d taken longer to get there but mentally hoped everything was okay. Glancing at his watch for what felt like the tenth time in five minutes, Tony decided it would be wiser to act—otherwise, it would've taken him very little to just run away from that place, blaming a stomach ache or something. 

Kubrick’s creations were certainly masterpieces, but he preferred not to fight two creepy ghost twins anytime soon. 

Unclasping the weapon from his belt, Tony inhaled deeply as he prepared to open the door. He confirmed that the number above it wasn’t 237 and checked one last time down the hallway for any sign of the team, but there was no one there. 

Suddenly he missed Palmer’s awful remarks if only to fill that deadly silence. 

Turning the handle with a click, the door opened to reveal only darkness. Tony tightened the grip of his weapon and cursed when he found the light switch didn’t work—but he should’ve expected things weren’t in his favor today. Getting his flashlight, he stepped inside, his heart racing.

“NCIS,” he stated loudly, eyes trying to get used to the darkness. 

A putrid smell suddenly filled his nostrils and he knew at least that that was the right room. Carefully stepping inside, Tony quickly surveyed the small living room to find nothing. The same with the bedroom and bathrooms, no body in sight. 

Following his intuition (and that horrible smell), Tony headed towards the kitchen, weapon raised and the flashlight dully illuminating old-looking furniture. He could hear his pulse loud in his ears, but other than that, nothing. His breathing felt too heavy and he tried to tone it down, but it wasn’t easy. 

That sensation of being watched had followed him inside.

Tony’s flashlight fell on the refrigerator and his body chilled. He halted, a shudder running down his spine. 

Blood dripped from its cracks, painting the door bright red. A good amount of it, coming from inside the upper freezer drawer. Whatever was inside it had been there for some time now—the trails of blood almost reaching the floor tiles. 

With the grip of his weapon turning slippery from the sudden sweat of his hands, Tony rethought his life choices for a moment, asking himself just how the hell he’d find himself there in the first place if it was his _job_ to open the door and find out what was inside. The awful smell certainly came from it, which gave him no other choice. 

He sighed, cursing to himself. Holding the flashlight with the same hand that held his weapon, Tony raised a hand towards the handle and felt the chilling sensation of the metal against his fingers, one that made him feel even colder. 

Yanking the freezer door open before he could change his mind, Tony cursed loudly once he saw what was inside. 

“Gee,” he breathed, letting out a sigh. 

The lights of the room turned on the same time footsteps sounded, and Tony jumped a little before quickly turning around to find no one other than his boss as his shooting target. 

“Scared of finding something else in there, DiNozzo?” asked Gibbs, raising an eyebrow.

Tony felt he could have hugged the man with the sudden wave of relief, but refrained from doing so. McGee entered the kitchen a moment after, narrowing his eyes at how he stood with his gun raised, and Tony straightened his posture, letting it down. No one needed to know how fast his heart was racing.

“Well, _yeah_ ,” replied Tony, a bit breathless. “I’ve grown to expect the worst.”

Tony followed Gibbs’ gaze to the freezer and felt heat creeping up his neck from the embarrassment. His boss motioned for McGee to take a picture of it before putting his rubber gloves to touch what was inside. 

His fingers came back sticky from the berry jam that had defrosted because of the power outage and Tony cursed again for not having put two and two together when he had discovered that the lights didn’t work. 

“A head inside your refrigerator?” asked Gibbs, though his attention was now focused on collecting a sample of it for Abby.

Tony huffed, trying to regain some composure. “I live with ex-Mossad officer Ziva David,” he said, loosening up his tie, “It wouldn’t surprise me in the least.”

“Do not worry,” a voice came from the adjacent room, and Ziva entered the kitchen a moment later. “I prefer cleaner methods.”

Tony shot her an incredulous look.

“Is that supposed to soothe me?”

Ziva shrugged, then eyed the refrigerator, chuckling amused.

“Besides… Jam is better,” she smirked. “Your blood is not that sweet.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “I thought we were talking about killing someone else. Not _me_.”

“Hm,” she hummed, and the sparkle in her eyes made him question if he could fool her as well as the others.

“I would sleep with one eye open if I were you,” chimed in McGee.

“I already sleep with two,” Tony replied. “She snores too loud.”

Gibbs huffed amused and McGee marked, "Not the wisest thing to say."

Tony eyed Ziva again to find her casting him a Kubrick-worthy smirk. 

"I'll sleep on the couch tonight," he swallowed.

"Hm," she hummed, then stepped closer to him to whisper, "You wish."


	22. In Every Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the sun rises on a nearby market, Tony and Ziva make their way through the fruit and vegetables stands.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Farmer’s Market 🍊

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my take on the pure soulmate energy that irradiates from Tiva. Those who know me well, know how much I’m obsessed with this topic haha <3

It was early enough to hear the birds singing in different tunes, but still too early for the sun to have fully risen. With the sky shifting from dark blue to pale orange, Tony blinked away the tiredness as he tried to fully appreciate the beauty of it.

His eyelids burned with fatigue, but the crisp cool autumn air made him alert enough not to fall asleep on the spot. After a rather difficult case and long nights locked inside the navy yard with only bad stakeout food and shots of caffeine, Tony was immensely glad they’d found their killer in time and their boss had sent them home. The prospects of a three-day weekend brought a nice feeling to his chest, one that made the drowsiness feel soothing, not guilty as it did before. 

Tony was, in fact, so glad, that he didn’t even register where his feet were heading until they suddenly arrived at the local market—early vendors setting up their stands and a few curious passersby already eyeing their products even before dawn. There were fresh fruit and vegetables neatly displayed (things he wasn’t particularly fond of) but they looked so good it made his mouth water. He really needed some sleep to get his mind back together. 

McGee went home to crash on something that wasn’t the hard floor of Abby’s lab and when Ziva said she was still to take a look at what was for sale at a farmer’s market nearby, Tony found himself following her without even thinking about it. It felt almost second nature to him now, and she appeared to be too tired to complain. 

“C’mon,” Tony sent a lazy grin her way and somehow knew he looked like a fool doing so. “You’re no fun. I already know you as an officer.”

“But it’s true,” Ziva chuckled, shoulders hunching up in defence. “I do not see myself being anything else.”

“Oh, c’mon, David,” he encouraged, bumping his shoulder with hers, “Let down your guard a little. Think about your childhood dreams, your locked-away secrets. Your walls can’t be that high this time in the morning.”

Ziva looked at him amused and quirked up an eyebrow, asking, “What would you be?”

“I asked you first,” Tony replied with a smile. 

“And I asked you second.”

Ziva then pulled a face he knew too well - the one she did whenever she was determined to make something happen, with her nose angled up just a little - and Tony found himself wondering if all people looked that beautiful at dawn, or if it was just her. 

“Hmm,” Tony mused to himself, putting his hands inside his pockets, “Probably a personal trainer. It would certainly make me feel great not to throw my Bachelor degree in Physical Education right into the trash bin like I did when I left Ohio Estate.”

“It wasn’t a complete waste.”

He turned to Ziva to find her watching him with a small smile and was surprised to see that she looked almost shy about it. Perhaps days without sleep had done something to her hardiness, and Tony instantly felt more vulnerable than he would ever admit. 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he replied with a slight duck of his head. “And you? Now you have to answer.”

Ziva looked at the sky beyond, putting her hands behind her back and swaying closer to him. He wondered if she also felt that pull of wanting to touch each other, one that was frequently present but not as strong. Now with the world around them turning pastel, it seemed like it had increased a thousandfold, and Tony had to press his lips together to keep his self-control in check. He suddenly had to fight the urge of taking her hand in his, and that alone made his fingers itch. 

“Hm,” Ziva hummed. “I think I would’ve liked to teach self-defense classes.” 

“A fighting instructor, huh?” He wasn’t surprised. “Suits you. I bet your classes would be filled with douchebags trying to get your number.”

Ziva chuckled. “I could teach them a thing or two.”

“You think we would work at the same place?”

“Hm. Maybe.”

“Be coworkers, huh?” Tony sent her a lopsided grin and Ziva huffed out a laugh, clearly amused by his line of thinking. 

“I do not think we would even have met.”

“Of course we would,” he stepped into her personal space to whisper, “I would be the too hot gym instructor you wouldn’t be able to take your eyes from all day.”

Ziva’s answering chuckle made his heart skip a beat, and Tony grew addicted to the sound. All he wanted to do nowadays was to make her laugh, his attempts at joking about everything turning more frequent than not. 

“Sure,” she smiled, and stepped closer to one booth at the side to look at its vegetables. In a minute, she had charmed the couple of vendors and now left with a paper bag filled with beetroots, a soft smile permanent on her face. 

He couldn’t stop staring.

“Maybe you would be the one asking my number then, huh?” asked Tony smugly, though the smile in his voice betrayed the truth. 

“Don’t fool yourself.” Ziva huffed. “You would be too occupied taking every single one of your clients to bed.”

“Ha!” Tony laughed to the sky. She was probably right. “But would you give me your number if I asked?”

“If you asked nicely…” She sent him a knowing look. “... perhaps.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot skywards. “Really? And would you go out with me?” 

Ziva turned to him then, and a smile started to twitch on his lips. He hadn’t missed how she’d halted for a moment, the double meaning of his words hanging in the air. The twinkle in her eye told him she had caught it, and Tony’s grin widened when she chose not to comment on it.

“It would have probably been out of pity,” Ziva replied instead. 

“Ouch,” Tony pretended to look affronted. “Not even casual sex? I bet we would’ve teamed up against bad wages and annoying students.”

She raised an eyebrow, but chuckled nonetheless. “Probably.”

“Be friends with benefits.”

“Now you’re dreaming.”

“Friends, at least?”

Whatever quick reply Ziva was ready to give him was cut short when an old lady approached them, coming from behind one of the stands. She had wrinkles around her eyes and starking white hair, but her smile was honest and excited. 

“For the couple,” she said, taking Tony’s hands inside her own and giving him a clementine. 

He felt a heat crept up his neck, and immediately corrected her, “We’re not a…” 

Then Tony turned to Ziva to find her watching him closely. There was a different sparkle in her eyes he’d never seen before, one that made him double-check to see if it was still there. But there it was - smiling as if she knew a secret, and silently asking if he knew that too.

Blinking away something more than just tiredness, Tony turned to the old lady again, who was patting the hand that was still on top of his. 

“Thank you,” Tony said, watching her nod and then go back to behind her shop.

He threw the orange from one hand to another, trying to think properly. Eventually, he decided it was way too early to be dwelling on matters that made his heart race like that. 

Tony parted the clementine into two identical halves and gave one to Ziva, who accepted without a word. 

Failing to suppress their smiles, they continued to walk down the market, stopping to grab some breakfast and then later to watch the sun fully rise.

They didn’t continue their conversation, though, but it didn’t really matter. 

He had a feeling that, in every universe, they would’ve always ended up that way.


	23. Decor War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a long day of work, Tony arrives home to find that his front door neighbor is a bit too excited for Halloween.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Halloween Decorations 🧹

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obligatory meet-cute AU of this collection, it got a bit out of hand lmao :)

Shoving the junk mail into a nearby trash bin, Tony took first one step and then another up toward his house with the hope of getting there in time. There was a game he wanted to watch tonight, and work had been as busy as ever, but home was home. There was the one place he could do what he wanted—and today he really just wanted to eat a whole bowl of nachos and forget he existed for two hours at least. 

After disposing of his shoes by the door, Tony rolled up his shirt sleeves and made his way to the kitchen. A football night usually meant a whole lot of beers and junk food, but tonight felt more of a martini night for some reason. Maybe because the boss had sent them home early for the good work on the case, and so a fancier drink wouldn’t be all that bad.

Shaken, not stirred, as a treat. 

He was midway of filling the shaker with ice when something caught his eye and the Sinatra song he was humming turned into a huff. Blinking, Tony squinted his eyes to check if what he was seeing was real, but it appeared that it was.

There, just across the street, were two skeletons having a sword fight on the front porch, weapons raised and positioned in a way one could know which one was winning. 

Not quite believing what he saw, Tony leaned into the counter to see if there was someone else in sight, but there wasn’t a soul anywhere down the street. He tried to remember who lived in that place and was embarrassed to realize he had no idea. After almost a year of living there, he just couldn’t remember if he’d ever seen nor visited his front door neighbor. 

At least now he knew they had a great sense of humor, and Tony found himself laughing at how brilliant that was. He had almost forgotten it was near Halloween, but now he just wanted to decorate his house the same way. 

Maybe he would, he thought as he put an olive into his martini. Maybe it was time to treat that place as his, like he did once inside. 

He mentally noted to think of something as he slouched down at the couch, a bowl of nachos in one hand and a martini at the other, the stress of long days at work evaporating as he propped his feet at the coffee table to forget about everything for a while. 

* * *

The next day, Tony returned home carrying a big doll of an old witch with a wrinkly face and a big black hat. He’d gone to the local shop in search of Halloween decorations, and something in her wicked smile and green skin made him instantly like her. He thought she would make a great sentinel, and the cauldron that came alongside her seemed like a pretty good deal. 

He arranged her in the front porch in a way he thought was fairly impressive - with her long crooked fingers atop the big ironlike cauldron - and was satisfied by how the dry ice smoking machine he had “borrowed” from an old evidence box complemented the look. 

Tony glanced again at the skeletons across the street, and they seemed as invested in their fight as ever. The thought of them having a new friend made him smile, and wondering if his neighbor would also appreciate it, Tony went back home, the witch now guarding his front entrance. 

* * *

He almost spilled all his coffee when he looked through his window the following morning.

Wiping his chin, Tony tried to suppress the laughter and ultimately failed once he saw how the skeletons had changed position at his neighbor's porch. 

They now appeared to be dancing, sunglasses tapped to their foreheads while their arms were hung to the ceiling marionette style. It reminded him of the Skeleton Dance classic, but some strange intuition told him whoever had put them there wasn’t as familiar with old movies as he was. 

Something told him that he and this neighbor would get along just great, judging from the quick comeback and warm sense of humor. Tony wondered if he was a frat boy. Probably. This had a silly frat comedy written all over it. 

Still trying to recall who it could be, Tony ended up missing the hour and swallowed down the rest of his coffee before darting to grab his suit to go to work. 

As he locked the front door, however, he took a moment to glance at the skeletons again. Now he was even more motivated in adding accessories to his witch, and thinking just how he could continue with this “Decor War”, Tony left, laughing to himself. 

* * *

Tony came back from work with a pair of the most extravagant sunglasses he could've found, putting them on the witch as soon as he arrived. He added a pair of gold chains he’d got from a street worker earlier that day when they were taking the witness’ statements, and even if Kate had given him a weird look because of it, now he just couldn’t be bothered when his sentinel looked that cool. 

Putting an old stereo he’d found in the garage on top of the cauldron, Tony smiled satisfied at the completed transformation of the witch into a street gangster. It looked even better than he’d originally planned, now that he noticed the furrow of the witch’s brow looked like she was angry at the world for some reason. 

Clasping his hands together, Tony looked over his shoulder at the dancing skeletons across the street, and as he took the steps upward to his house, he wondered if his neighbor would’ve caught the meaning behind his decoration.

That they were dancing to the witch’s music, after all. 

* * *

The next day, Tony almost tripped over himself while he was putting on his trousers, jumping his way towards the kitchen. He just couldn’t wait to see what his front door neighbor had come up with, if he had responded accordingly. 

Tony had to admit this was the most fun he’d had _in ages_ , and even McGee was surprised by his lack of constant pranks at work. Now that he had something to look forward to every day, suddenly putting glue on keyboards and unhooking chairs to dismantle themselves seemed too superficial to compare.

He wasn’t disappointed.

The skeletons were now taking a sunbath, right in the front lawn of the opposite side of the street. 

A _sunbath_. 

Tony barked out a laugh to the ceiling, hitting the kitchen counter reactively.

It was downright brilliant how they were placed. Sitting on reclining chairs at the front yard, the skeletons still sported the sunglasses but were now also wearing Hawaiian shirts and sun visors. One of them had their hands laced behind their head while the other used a metal reflector for vintage-style tanning. 

Tony looked at the sky, which was covered in white. Expected, it was the middle of October anyway. Perhaps his frat friend actually enjoyed the rain or just wasn’t used to how quickly the weather could change there. Something told Tony he wasn’t from Washington, otherwise, he would’ve known him. From past encounters, or even common friends. 

Mentally noting to find a way to meet this mysterious neighbor, Tony went to work, almost running the red while thinking of a creative way to customize his witch. 

As he stopped at the traffic light, though, he couldn’t help but smile.

The sky had cleared just slightly, a ray of sunshine piercing the gray clouds.

* * *

Kate questioned what was happening to him. Apparently, Tony hadn’t had that productive of a day since he entered NCIS, and even Gibbs commented on the matter. The fact that a surprise awaited him at home had changed everything, and now Tony did his best to work as fast as he could, so then he could get home as soon as possible. 

It was time to step up the game. He had spent his whole lunch break trying to think of a way to impress his front-door neighbor, and at the end, a somewhat pretentious yet genius idea had formed in his head. 

It wasn’t easy to change the clothing of the witch. The fabric was sewn to her skin, but eventually Tony was able to wiggle it in a way that was removable. Arranging the accessories he’d managed to get that afternoon, the result wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined, but it was good all the same. 

The witch could now pass as a hula dancer. 

Wearing a leaf skirt and a coconut top he got in the Halloween shop, the witch now looked rather angry to be in that outfit. It didn’t look as good as the skeletons sunbathing, but at least it was something. Something that had nothing to do with fall at all, he mused. Almost as if a getaway from the characteristic October gloom. 

Tony smiled. He remembered this all had started with him thinking it was some kind of war. As if it was supposed to be a competition of best decorations, or who could come up with the best ideas for the front porch sentinels. 

Shaking his head, Tony entered the house, leaving the human-sized green hula dancer behind. 

By sporting the Hawaiian outfits and celebrating the non-existent sun, the witch and the skeletons now looked like they could’ve come from the same graveyard. 

It had never been a war at all. 

* * *

The following day, Tony tried not to run. He really tried. He woke up earlier than usual and took his time getting ready, tidying up the house, and making his coffee—even if some little voice in his head beckoned him to the kitchen, where a surprise was waiting for him. 

Tony tried to contain that flicker of excitement in his chest, but it was almost impossible. He had no idea why he was looking forward to it so much, but it felt like it was… important, somehow? Maybe not important exactly, but certainly relevant to his day. This strange neighbor was making his whole life better. Happiness really was stored in the small things. 

But as he glanced through the kitchen window, though, Tony wasn’t able to refrain from the disappointment that weighed in his stomach. 

The skeletons were still in the very same position as if the day hadn’t passed at all. 

But… What was the reason? Maybe his neighbor got busy and… forgot? Maybe he had no other ideas? He must've had other things to do other than investing his whole day into Halloween decorations—like he was doing himself, Tony noticed bitterly. 

Maybe he just had other priorities today, he thought. Yes, maybe when Tony got home from work, the skeletons would then be cooking or breakdancing or doing yoga… And then the game would continue. His neighbor could’ve changed his schedule or just overslept and forgot to respond.

Or maybe it didn’t matter that much to him.

Tony grabbed his suit to go, locking his front door with a glance at the still sunbathing skeletons. He tried not to feel disappointed, but something about it didn’t feel right.

Suddenly the skeletons looked too sad and the witch had a reason to be angry. 

Later that day, the gray sky dissolved into rain.

* * *

Clenching his jaw, Tony decided not to wait for the rain to pass inside the car. He glanced at the other side of the street, his chest aching at the sight of the skeletons still placed the same way. 

He had convinced himself at work not to dwell on it too much, but now that he'd confirmed his suspicions that the neighbor got bored with a game he was enjoying so much, Tony couldn’t help but feel slightly frustrated. 

Maybe… if he was more… _daring_ , his mysterious friend would notice?

“Huh,” huffed Tony to himself, taking one and then another step towards his front porch. 

Narrowing his eyes at the witch, he tried to think of a way to make it more appealing. She already looked _interesting_ —interesting not really being the right word for an old green doll with a skirt made of leaves and a cauldron very out of place with the whole vibe—but Tony tried to think of the best way to humor a fraternity guy. What if…

Tony smiled to himself, coming up with the best idea of all.

Taking out the coconut top, he made her topless, and then took the flower crown she was sporting and placed it around her neck. 

Perfect. 

Now she was the definition of a true hula dancer, one of those that swung their hips while stuck on top of a truck’s sticky front panel. 

Satisfied with the new look, Tony turned over his shoulder almost expecting the front-door neighbor to laugh alongside him, but there was no one there other than the familiar not-so-scary skeletons. 

Trying not to keep his hopes up, Tony entered the house, shifting his focus to the killer they had just been caught in the current case at work. Soon Tony was making dinner and listening to his favorite jazz jams, then catching up with the football season and emptying two beer bottles. 

When he went to sleep, though, his last thought came back to skeletons. 

And why the hell he’d never seen any sign of life coming from the house the whole year he’d been there. 

* * *

The next couple of days were the same. Someone had moved the skeletons to the front porch, and one of them was now missing a shirt. They didn’t appear to be as neatly arranged nor as fun, their faces now hollow of feelings. 

Tony woke up, as usual, drinking his coffee in the kitchen before going to work while he reflected upon the lack of life coming from the mysterious house. McGee now complained again about the comeback of his pranks, and for the first time in a week, Tony received a deserved head slap from Gibbs. 

Kate asked who was this girl that had dumped him and if she could have a word. She liked “bubbly Tony” - as she called it - and this grumpy version of him was no fun now that she had seen his “full potential”. Tony shut her down with a sharp glare, and she narrowed her eyes back at him. Maybe she was up to something, but Tony didn’t really care.

He really didn’t care about anything anymore, to be honest. He shouldn’t have been that annoyed by a simple lack of response in such a foolish game, but now he was just disappointed with himself. He should have stuck with football, and nachos and beers, not with this mood killer of a neighbor. 

Tony took down his witch when he got home that day. He’d never liked Halloween for a number of reasons, and this year wouldn’t be different. He was already planning on spending his evening on the last day of October in the local bar, picking up girls instead of sweets for annoying kids. 

Living people was better than forgotten skeletons anyway.

* * *

On the third day, Tony woke up angry. Angry at the still lack of reaction from this irritating neighbor, angry that he didn’t get the answer to who it was yet, and angry that the skeletons were still the same _damn_ way in front of the entrance across the street. 

He hastily put on some clothes and was already midway to the lifeless house when he made himself stop. 

He wondered what was the last time he’d done something that stupid. Caring for abandoned Halloween decorations and being bitter by a guy who was still a stranger in his eyes. Tony was certain now he was one of those lazy men who didn’t take a shower for a week and spied at neighbors’ lives just for not having something better to do.

He already hated him. 

Listening to a rather loud knock on the door, Tony realized it was him who had done it. Part of him cursed himself for wasting his time being so annoyed by the whole matter, but now he just couldn’t back away. He needed to know if this asshole of a neighbor was laughing at him, or even just simply alive after days of no answer. 

Before he could even think properly, though, the door opened in a quick motion and Tony’s brow furrowed at the sight of a woman smiling up at him. 

The old lady spoke something he didn’t understand, which only made him even more confused. She had kind eyes and fading brown hair, and as she took both Tony's hands on her own and gave him something before patting his cheek, Tony realized how of all things he was expecting, this wasn’t even close to being one of them. 

Opening his hand, Tony found sweets. 

_Sweets_. 

The old lady had given him Halloween candy, and now he just couldn’t feel anything more than the heavy weight of guilt burning inside his stomach. 

That considerate - even if her eyes now sparkled a little crazy - old lady had been the one that had arranged the skeletons every day for him, and now that he’d knock on the door to… what? Fight her? Demand some stupid response? She had offered him sweets. _Sweets_ , for god’s sake. 

Tony cursed himself for being such an asshole. He thought all along that it had been a guy about his age, for some reason. The humor was too good to be anything different. But as he looked at the smiling old lady who was still talking about something he hadn’t got a clue what was about, Tony felt a flicker of disappointment burn inside his chest. 

She took one of his hands again and her smile widened, and Tony tried to mimic it, nodding to whatever she was saying. He was still trying to pick up some loose words from it and… Was that... Hebrew?

Another voice speaking with the same foreign accent sounded inside, but this one felt way, _way_ angrier. It got closer and closer to the door, and after some time, the owner of it yanked it open, and Tony’s smile quickly disappeared. 

“Sorry, that was my Aunt Nettie,” the voice said in English. “She hit her head a couple of days ago and still has not recovered. How can I—”

Tony stopped still.

He just couldn’t believe his eyes.

In front of him was perhaps the most attractive woman he’d ever _seen_. 

With her unbound dark hair and equally dark brown eyes, she skimmed his face for a moment before a sparkle of recognition passed her gaze and a smile cracked on her lips. That brainkiller type of smile, one which made his hands sweaty and mouth instantly dry. She tilted her head to the side, assessing him, and Tony’s insides turned to goo. 

Fuck, she was attractive. Really attractive.

Only when her eyebrows shot skywards did he realize she was talking to him. 

“Hm… What?” Tony closed the mouth he didn’t notice was hanging open. 

“The topless witch guy, yes?” she pointed at him, a sparkle dancing in her eyes. 

Right at that moment, Tony’s heart stopped and then restarted all over again. Was that…? But it couldn’t be. He was _certain_ the jokes had come from a guy. There was no way it was a _she_ rather than just a pal. And fuck, now something else burned inside his chest that wasn’t even close to disappointment. At all. He licked his lips, but they still felt too dry. 

Tony then pulled his million-dollar smile, one he _knew_ could charm the ladies. 

“Guilty,” he replied in the voice he only used while trying to coach someone to his bed. She must have seen through it though, because she immediately chuckled. Tony frowned, watching her laugh. The sound felt addicting for some reason, and now all he wanted was to hear it again.

The mysterious brunette took her aunt by the shoulders and gestured to her to go back inside, while Tony felt his feet stuck to the floor. No way he would leave there without getting her number. There was just no way. 

“How many neighborhood complaints have you had since then?” she turned to him again, raising one of her eyebrows. 

As she leaned against the threshold a second later, Tony realized that the attraction was mutual. The angle of her hip looked painfully good, and as he let his gaze do an elevator motion, he couldn’t refrain his huff as he found… was that cargo pants?

His eyes turned back to her face to find her smirking. She also instantly knew he was attracted to her. Smart, then. The smart ones usually intimidated him, but as he locked his eyes with hers, Tony found himself unable of running away. 

Wait. How could she know who he was? He hadn’t introduced himself yet. Had she been watching _the whole time_? Him stealing glances at her front door all week? That was the only explanation she could know for certain he was the guy across the street, and Tony found himself intrigued rather than weirded out. 

How could she create such scenarios with decorations and yet he had never seen her around? He would have _surely_ noticed a beauty like that if she’d crossed his eye, and now he cursed himself for not having knocked on that door earlier.

Damn, it was the best decision he’d made all week. 

“You… You have no right to say that.”

Tony put his hands inside his pockets, not only because his jeans were growing worryingly tight by the minute, but also because he needed to regain some self-control. He raised his chin a little and saw her eyes sparkle, appreciating him as she crossed her arms. 

“Is that so?” she asked, and as one of her fingers brushed her own biceps, Tony realized she was in fact strong. Really strong, not at all his type of girl, with her muscles defined and tight under her hand.

Fuck, he really wanted to kiss her senseless now. Feel those hands gripping his hair as he did so. 

“Yes,” Tony licked his lips and she hummed in return. “Your skeletons were having a rather graphic sword fight the other day.”

“Knife fight, actually.”

“But they were big enough to be swords,” he chuckled. “See… that just proves my point.”

She did that thing again that made his fingers tingle, that tilt of her head as she skimmed over his face. 

“I like knives,” she replied with a secretive smile. 

“Should I be scared?” Tony smirked. 

“I would be surprised if you weren’t.”

The air was so heavy now Tony thought that if he chose to shorten the distance between them and kiss that smirk off her face, she wouldn’t complain. But something in his gut told him there was more at stake for some reason. He _really_ didn’t want to blow this off. 

"Tony DiNozzo, your… neighbor.” He stuck out a hand towards her, his heart racing against his own will. “Also witch hunter... in my spare time."

Then Tony cast her his trademark smile, and she smiled back, perhaps charmed by it. 

"Hm. Nice to have finally met you.” She joined their hands with sparkling eyes. “Ziva David,” she replied, “Coven leader.” 


	24. Storms & Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the middle of a thunderstorm, Tony and Ziva face the consequences of bickering instead of keeping their eyes on the road.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Thunder Storms 🌩️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by the movie “Leap Year”. This is so tropey and self-indulgent but also... why not? - aka the enemies to lovers fic of the series.

Tony squinted his eyes to try to see through the darkness straight ahead, but it would be easier to see underwater. And he was - in a way - as the windshield wipers moved back and forth with a speed that was worrying how it wasn’t enough to clear away the rain. The skies had decided to fall tonight with all their strength, and now not even the headlights on in full potency could shine through the heavy fog. 

“I can’t see a thing,” he complained, leaning over the steering wheel to see if it helped somehow. It didn’t. 

Ziva let out an annoyed huff from the passenger seat. “I do not understand how difficult it is to just drive straight ahead.”

“Well, maybe because I know for a fact that this is _not_ a straight road, David.”

“If you know it’s not straight, then you know the way,” she replied dryly, and he could almost sense the eye roll without even looking at her. “So why are you driving at a leech’s pace?”

“Snail,” Tony grunted.

“I have been locked inside this tiny, awful, smelly vehicle of yours for more than two hours. Do you really think it’s smart now to start calling me names?”

“I wasn’t _calling_ you anything.” Her obliviousness was truly unbelievable sometimes. “It’s a ‘snail’s pace’. I’m driving at a ‘snail’s pace’.”

“Glad we could agree,” Ziva replied with a condescending huff, and Tony had to clench his jaw from keeping himself from saying things he knew he would later regret. “Now would you do me favor and step out of the car so I can drive us back? We’re practically going backwards.”

“I would rather crash this car than suffer from an impending death by your hands.”

“Oh, do not worry,” she laughed bitterly. “If I stay locked up here with you any longer, you’ll die before that.”

This really was going to be a nightmare. Tony mentally noted to make McGee pay for convincing the boss to stay in the navy yard while he and Ziva took a detour to Arlington to check an abandoned warehouse—one that didn’t lead anywhere after all. A pair of woman's footprints in the dirt and some missing shell cases were the only leads they had found, and they still had no clue about who they belonged to other than the slugs matched the petty officer’s missing gun. 

The storm had started as soon as they set foot inside the warehouse, and there was only time to capture the footprints before the rain washed it away and left them stuck in the middle of nowhere. After an hour of waiting for the downpour to pass from inside the car, Tony had lost his patience with Ziva’s complaints and decided that the faster he could go back, the better—even if that meant having to sit through hours on end listening to her protests about his inability in driving efficiently enough.

It didn’t help that they hadn’t had anything to eat all day, and hungry Ziva usually meant dangerous Ziva. One wrong move and Tony would turn to dust, faster than being electrocuted by the lightning bolts that now pierced the clouds. But he just couldn’t help himself when she was like this—somehow it made the want to put her off even more compelling. This bad humor usually meant he could get to her easier, and Tony just couldn’t let any chance go to waste. To bug Ziva until she went mad may have turned into one of his life goals over the years. 

“Don’t lie to yourself,” Tony’s lips tilted upwards. “You’re enjoying every minute of it.”

“Of course,” she replied dryly. “This is exactly how I planned to spend my evening.”

“What?” Tony chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’d have preferred Probie as company.”

“He would certainly be less obnoxious than _you._ ”

“Miss David,” Tony sent a sweet smile her way, “Say whatever you want, but your eyes tell a different story.”

Ziva chuckled amused and Tony felt her gaze burn at the right side of his face. “Yes? And what story _are_ they telling?” Her voice sounded kind but Tony knew her well enough to hear the note of disdain in it. He decided it was time to make her squirm.

“Wouldn’t this be the perfect excuse for getaway sex in the middle of nowhere?”

Tony glanced her way with a lopsided grin and was amused to see it had worked. Ziva looked at him almost surprised he had put it that bluntly, but neither of them was that oblivious of the sexual attraction they shared that they would deny thoughts like that weren’t common. Of course they had indulged it over the years but still felt like a forbidden topic. 

“Keep on dreaming, DiNozzo,” Ziva replied after some time, and Tony couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face at her reaction. Of course she would deny it. 

“I think _you_ are the one lying to yourself,” she added right after, and Tony pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.

“Is that right?”

“Yes. Sexual fantasies are always your last resource. It means you are desperate.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot skywards. It shouldn’t surprise him that she knew him that well. “For what, exactly?”

“Whatever it is that you are seeking.”

“So, Elphaba,” Tony pursed his lips, “What is it that I’m _seeking_?”

He could feel her staring at him even as he watched the road when Ziva replied quietly, “I would not know.”

“Hm,” Tony hummed, his mind conjuring up a thousand images per second, “Oh, I think you would.”

Tony’s gaze was pulled to the passenger seat and his heart did that crazy little flip he was familiar with when he found that Ziva was already staring, her face tilted to the side. Her hooded eyes skimmed his face lazily, and Tony felt his mouth turn dry when she started smirking knowingly. Good heavens, all he wanted to do right that instant was to wipe that smirk off her face and convince her to tell him what the hell she was thinking with her eyes sparkling like that. 

_How did things escalate so quickly when she was concerned?_

He was still trying to peer into her head when Ziva’s eyes widened, and Tony cursed out loud as the car bumped into something that made them take a sharp turn to the left, the steering wheel slipping away from his control. 

He heard Ziva’s muffled scream before the car distinctively hit a tree - the flashlights illuminating the wide trunk and foliage appearing out of nowhere - and Tony felt all the air being sucked from his lungs because of it. 

As soon as the car stopped, Tony saw some type of smoke coming from the bent hood that looked like more than just mere fog. With his fingers still gripping the steering wheel tightly, his heart was racing as he tried to process what had just happened. Then Ziva started cursing in a language he didn’t understand and some relief returned to him when he realized she wasn’t in fact hurt.

“This was your fault,” Tony said without thinking, blinking away the surprise as he ran a hand through his hair.

“And just how exactly was it _my_ fault?” Ziva bit back. “You were the one ‘ _driving_ ’ it.”

“You kept distracting me,” he swallowed.

Tony saw the sequence of anger, scorn, and annoyance pass her features, and Ziva shot him a sharp glare before opening the door. The sound of the thunderstorm increased for a second before she shut the door behind her, and a sudden uneasiness blurred Tony’s vision when he realized he would need to face the heavy rain to fix whatever mistake he had made. 

Stepping out of the car and into the storm, Tony felt his clothes soak immediately, and a strong gust of wind turned them instantly cold. He found Ziva crouching next to the front tire, her hair already dripping wet. She sighed unimpressed and Tony realized that the tire had been punctured, some flicker of hope dying as he remembered they weren’t carrying any spare ones to give space for all the evidence boxes they usually stocked in the trunk.

She must have had the very same thought, because Ziva stood up and crossed her arms, and even in the darkness, Tony could see the disdainful scowl of one deserved ‘I told you so’. He cast her a lip-tight smile that she mimicked it right back, and Tony took out his phone to see unsurprisingly that they had no signal there.

Huffing out an exasperated breath, Tony tried to think of a solution that felt more unattainable with each passing second. He began to shiver when thunder started to resonate across the sky. He looked up and down the road for any sign of life, but there was none - expected, it was the middle of the night in a heavy thunderstorm anyway - and the prospects of having to spend the whole night curled up inside a broken car were turning acutely real. 

Tony was already giving up and returning to the car when his eyes fell on the other side of the road and he exhaled out loud at the sight of a small window illuminated by lamplight. Through the rain, he could distinguish the blurred outlines of a little cabin just up the hill and mentally thanked the heavens for making the car break next to some sort of human civilization. 

“Where are you going?” asked Ziva as he jumped the highway bumps into the bushes that led to the light.

Tony turned over his shoulder to see that she had stayed next to the car, and halted when she gave him no sign of tagging along.

“Find shelter,” he yelled through the rain, then pointed to the cabin. “We’re lost, it’s the middle of a thunderstorm, and I already sent the photos to McGee.” 

Ziva eyed the house with some suspicion and hugged her arms tighter. Tony mentally registered the fact that she was also shivering, but decided not to comment on it when Ziva raised her chin in defiance and stood her ground. 

“You can stand here in the rain if you want to,” Tony declared before continuing to walk. “Heard it’s like acid for witches!” his scream sounded in the ravine.

“At least I’m not the one smelling!” Ziva yelled right back, but she appeared to be getting closer to him. 

“Or so you think.”

A head slap hit him a second later, and Tony had to bite his tongue not to give her any pleasure from a reaction. Ziva passed him with a smug smile and he watched as she made her way to the cabin, her hips visibly swaying even with all that rain.

He was right. This was going to be a nightmare, in whatever way.

Tony had no other choice than to follow her, the car left forgotten amidst loud thunder and rain.

* * *

The cabin was, in fact, a bed & breakfast, and Tony would’ve been immensely grateful if he wasn’t so irritated by Ziva’s ‘I was right’ attitude, which was driving _him_ mad now. Also, the fact that a bed & breakfast was located up a hill, which was unusual, but Tony just couldn’t complain when he knocked on the door and an old lady opened it instantly, eyeing them with a concerned frown. 

“Oh, my poor dears! Come, come.” She pulled them in and closed the door in a hurry, muffling the sound of the storm at the same time the warmth coming from the cabin embraced him. 

Tony could’ve sworn he heard Ziva moan right next to him - downright moan out _loud_ \- but his mind suddenly felt like mud once he registered how wet she was with her dripping hair and her clothes unfairly clinging to her skin.

_How was it possible for someone to be that attractive after being completely drenched by a thunderstorm?_

“You’re lucky, so you are,” said the old lady with a pitying look directed at them, “Just half an hour ago, I had two backpackers at the door wanting the room. But they weren’t married. Admitted it right out. No shame. So I sent them packing.” She nodded at someone inside the living room and Tony stretched his neck to find probably the oldest man he would ever find breathing, nodding back at her. 

“Right is right,” she continued, glancing at them again, “Rain or no rain. So, it’s Mr. and Mrs.—”

Tony halted, then started coughing to disguise the sudden hysteria that kicked in while Ziva patted his back with more force than necessary.

“David,” Ziva faked a sweet voice.

“DiNozzo,” Tony hissed through the coughing.

Ziva hit him in the stomach and Tony huffed out a breath before shooting her a glare. Ziva was smiling forcefully, her eyes a bit wide as she motioned to the old lady with a sharp move of her head. Tony turned his attention to find the woman narrowing her eyes at them, and instantly felt the opportunity of good accommodation for the night slipping away as easily as it had appeared. 

“David-DiNozzo,” Tony said, pulling his best charming grin, then wrapped an arm around Ziva’s shoulders and didn’t miss the protesting hiss she tried to refrain. 

“We’re not long married, and the names are so similar we forget,” he continued, but the owner still eyed them with a certain degree of suspicion.

“We pray that one day we’ll be able to have a son and heir to keep it going. Name him Daniel.” Ziva’s nails dug into his thigh. “Or Daisy,” Tony amended through gritted teeth, “Sweet as her mother.”

“Oh,” the woman’s expression softened and Tony mentally noted to tease Ziva about it later.

“Tony…” He tightened his arm around her, “And Ziva to you, ma’am.”

He didn’t know why he’d chosen to give her their real names, but Ziva let out a giggle that didn’t fit her at all and Tony found himself truly laughing, now at how ridiculous it all was. 

“Lovely,” replied the old lady with a satisfied grin. She beckoned them in and motioned to the stairs, saying, “Now let’s get you to your room.”

Tony wiggled his eyebrows and saw the amused sparkle in Ziva’s eyes, so fast he wondered if he had seen it at all. 

“After you, sweet cheeks,” he said with a duck of his head, adding a brief wink he was sure she had caught. 

“Thank you,” Ziva smirked knowingly and passed him to follow the lady upstairs. She looked over her shoulder to add, “Mon petit poi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> part two of this story next chapter :)


	25. Inn-Inn Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After stumbling upon a cabin in the middle of nowhere, Tony and Ziva pretend to be a couple for a night to seek shelter during a storm.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Bed & Breakfast 🛏️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by the movie “Leap Year”. That famous scene was too good to ignore, and to be honest, I don’t think there's enough “there’s only one bed” tiva stories out there (will it ever?). 
> 
> **(this is part two of the last story)**

He really didn’t have the right to look that hot when shaking his hair as if a wet dog like that. 

Ziva was still to find someone as contradicting as Anthony DiNozzo, but now that problem seemed to have intensified for some reason. That cabin looked way too cozy and their room looked way too comfortable for her not to think about the matter of them staying there as a _couple_ , especially after the cabin owner said dinner would be ready soon for the two “lovebirds”.

She could still picture the look he gave her inside the car, his hooded eyes boring into her as if he tried his best to decipher her but couldn’t. Well, Ziva certainly felt the same way, half her mind asking her to just forgo any rules and take those wet clothes of his herself; while the other half shut it down and cursed herself for being such a fool. He was the one thing in her life she seemed not to have any control of, and it intrigued her more than she would ever admit. 

Tony now took off his coat and suit jacket and… Of course he would be wearing shoulder holsters. _God, couldn’t she have one moment of peace?_

Ziva watched as Tony surveyed the room with an impressed smirk, taking in the fireplace and the tapestries hanging from the walls. The floor was covered in wooden tiles, and Ziva might have appreciated it herself if it all wasn’t so… Romantic? Homey? It annoyed her that it looked that pleasant, with the heavy sound of rain still falling outside. They weren’t there to have a relaxing getaway, but she somehow found herself chained to that man. _Again_. Fate really wasn’t on her side in that aspect. 

There was also the fact that they would have to share a bed. 

As soon as Ziva entered the room, her heart started racing against her own will. She had slept next to him various times in the past, it’s true, but that didn’t take away the fluttering she always felt in her stomach when that happened. In fact, sometimes Ziva just wanted to ignore how heavy the air felt whenever the two of them were alone, but over the years, that proved to be an impossible task. Especially after a tiring day when her mind didn’t work properly and... _Especially_ with those shoulder holsters. 

Tony narrowed his eyes at her when he caught her staring, and Ziva looked away to focus on something else instead. She took out her coat and put it next to the fire, then dried her hair with a blanket she found draped in one of the chairs. 

She could feel him watching her from the corner of her vision, but decided not to give it any heed. To pretend she wasn’t affected had always been her safest tactic, and as Ziva eyed the small double-sized bed in the middle of the room, that’s exactly what she did. 

“Well, you are not sleeping in that bed with me, _Mr. David-DiNozzo_.”

Then she finally glanced at Tony to find him already casting her a sly smile, seeing right through her façade. Ziva cursed mentally for letting it show, pulling a face she hoped was impassive enough as he rolled up his shirt sleeves and stared back at her. 

“Maybe you’re not sleeping in the bed with _me_ ,” Tony said as he took out his shoes and let the water from them drip to the floor. Then he discarded his socks, throwing them aimlessly before falling onto the bed. 

Lacing his fingers behind his head, Ziva realized Tony took up most of the space of the mattress. 

“Welcome to the age of equality. Hm—” Tony closed his eyes with a groan, “—comfy.”

“For heaven’s sake,” Ziva retorted with a pinch of her nose as she eyed his bare feet hanging from the bed’s frame. “I will faint before that. Let’s flip a coin.”

Tony opened one of his eyes, then sat up again with a heavy sigh to grab something inside his pocket. 

“Fair enough,” he said as he flipped the coin, “Heads I win, tails you lose.”

Ziva watched as the coin spun in the air and landed in the back of Tony’s hand.

“Heads,” Tony stated loudly, then looked at her with fake pity. “Shame. You can sleep…” he motioned to the bathroom with a tip of his chin, “In the shower.”

Ziva huffed but Tony closed his eyes too soon to catch her annoyed smile. 

Making her way to the bathroom, Ziva mentally noted to think of a way to get the bed to herself as she took a shower—hot water and the drier clothes the cabin’s owner had given them seemed more inviting than endless bickering at the moment.

“Just as long as I do not have to sleep anywhere near _you_ ,” Ziva argued over her shoulder as she closed the curtain that separated the shower from the rest of the room, not caring for any response.

Tony, however, chuckled too loudly for her to ignore, and as Ziva turned the faucet on, her mind returned to what she was pretending not to care—that one bed, or more specifically, that one _man_ too big for it she was bound to stay with for a whole night.

* * *

“Tony DiNozzo, you—” Ziva stormed out of the bathroom with the towel still wrapped around her body, “—heads you win, tails I _lose_?” She snapped with a sharp glare, but Tony only chuckled in return. 

Losing her cool, Ziva hit in the chest only for Tony to laugh even more, defending himself from her punches as he stood from the bed. Only when Ziva had cornered him to one of the walls and he was holding her by the bare shoulders did she realize the shift in the air, his eyes ogling her figure as she stepped out of his grip. 

His eyes skimmed her body unashamed, and Ziva couldn’t fight the heat that crept up her neck when she remembered that there was only a towel. She should have thought this more thoroughly earlier. Crossing her arms, she tilted her chin up in defiance - and even if her pulse was racing - she managed to send him a smirk that yearned a darker sparkle in Tony’s eyes. 

“This is _my_ bed,” Ziva declared, then stepped closer to see Tony’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly as she added, “And take a shower. Even the flies here are perishing with your smell.”

She was sure she had the upper hand then, but confusion quickly substituted her smirk when Tony’s lips twitched into a grin—that boyish kind of smile she was too familiar with.

“Mm-mmm,” he shook his head, his eyes visibly sparkling, “You can see right through the curtain.”

“Can you?” Ziva huffed, certain that it was a bluff.

Tony’s grin only widened, and a chill ran down her spine when Ziva realized he spoke the truth.

“ _Can you?_ ” she growled, but Tony had already slipped from sight, darting downstairs at the old lady’s announcement that dinner was ready. 

Trying to contain the sudden flush of her cheeks, Ziva had no other choice than to change into new clothes and follow him. The annoyance she felt towards him only grew. 

That night wasn’t going to be an easy one. 

* * *

Dinner was almost acceptable if not for Tony’s wild imagination in creating a backstory for them - apparently, they were next-door neighbors and he had fallen for her as soon as they met - but all Ziva had to do was nod and the old lady cast them kind eyes as if it was not the most ridiculous story of all. 

Soon they had finished eating and Ziva was glad they had found the place in the middle of nowhere, until the owner had asked them if the room was to their liking and Tony’s lips twitched into a wide grin - making her remember she was, in fact, angry at him. 

“Oh, the hot water is simply amazing,” said Ziva with a sweet smile before he could say anything. “I would stay that for the whole night if I could.”

“Hm, I wish,” Tony let out under his breath.

“Sorry?”

“I mean, _you_ wish,” he replied, the look he cast her holding a secret. “That said, I should probably go. Need to hop in the shower myself.” 

Ziva was ready to retort when Tony stood up, then grabbed her by the shoulders and placed a brief kiss on her hair, asking, “Honey, would you please help her with the dishes just this once? Then we can go to sleep.”

Ziva looked up to cast him a lip-tight smile, knowing he was just running away. 

“I would love to,” she said mockingly. 

“Wonderful!” replied the old lady, clasping her hands together.

Leaving the kitchen behind, Tony jumped up the steps towards their room, and Ziva almost forgot the transparent curtain issue if not for the wink he sent her before disappearing. 

Suddenly she really wished she was in that room instead.

* * *

The bed creaked when Ziva sat down. Tony had already turned to the side to give her enough space, but she knew he wasn’t sleeping yet. Downstairs, she had come up with a dozen comebacks she could’ve given, but now it just didn’t feel right. The rain was still heavy, its echoing sound hitting the rooftop. Thunder sounded all around them and Ziva noticed that he had put on a fire, the fireplace crackling next to them. 

She sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. To travel for hours and argue the whole time had made her more tired than she realized, and when Ziva laid down on her side at the mattress, she almost forgot the man next to her if not for him breaking the silence as usual. 

“Good night,” Tony said, almost too quiet. She wondered what he was thinking. “Sweet dreams. Sleep—”

“Do you ever get tired of your own voice?”

Tony breathed out a laugh, and Ziva felt the mattress shift as he turned on his back. 

“What’s wrong, David? Don’t tell me being my wife isn’t one of your most well-guarded wishes.”

Ziva huffed. “I would rather be struck by lightning.”

"Don’t make me a widower now.”

Ziva was glad her back was turned to him, otherwise Tony would certainly have caught the smile she just couldn’t contain. Their constant back-and-forth never ceased to amuse her, but what really made her think was the fact that he never got tired of it. Of course, she wanted it to last for longer every time, but he never once failed in coming up with a response. It made her question if that was one of the things that made a person one’s equal. 

“It really is a heavy storm,” Ziva thought out loud.

The rain still pattered against the windows and the wooden rooftop now felt as if a shell, the sound amplified inside the room. Through the cracks of the wall, she could hear the angry wind, and something about them being under safe shelter brought some comfort but made her feel small all the same. 

“Yeah,” Tony inhaled. “Hadn’t seen one like this since I was little.” 

He rarely approached the topic of his childhood, and she didn’t know why exactly, but Tony’s quiet voice made her glance at him. He was facing the ceiling, his mind lost in thought. It was rare - for him to be silent - and the air suddenly felt tighter. Ziva’s heart started racing—she knew the moment well. 

When the walls were put down. When vulnerability turned real, which was something that always touched her how easy it was. It was so easy to confess things to him—it always felt like this, since they first met and she told him about her sister—and most times Ziva didn’t even feel like sharing a secret at all. It was as if she was just telling a fact he already knew, some part of her not even herself did remember, but she had a feeling he would somehow recognize. 

“Me neither,” Ziva replied, her lips tilting upwards. “Our house had one glass roof so we would all go the upper floor to listen and Ari—”

Tony turned to face her, the openness in his eyes making her heart skip a beat. His face felt too close and somehow still not close enough, and suddenly Ziva felt lightheaded. 

For someone who didn’t stop talking, he really excelled in rendering her speechless. 

“What?” Tony skimmed her face, and there was a care in his voice she wasn’t used to. It was as if he was still interested in what she had to say but didn’t want to push her. 

Thunder sounded then, and he blinked. She saw him swallowing, his Adam’s apple moving up and down. Her heartbeat sounded louder than the storm outside, and as Ziva caught his eyes again, her mouth felt too dry to continue. 

Tongue-tied, she held his stare, and Tony let out a shaky breath that told her whatever she was feeling was mutual. 

Ziva wondered if he could listen to her galloping heartbeat as she replied in a whisper, “Nothing.”

Tony’s eyes stayed locked with hers, and Ziva somehow knew he saw right through it. That there was something they shouldn’t approach but was still there—that flicker of chemistry that had always felt too natural to just ignore. 

He offered her a small smile and was the first one to break the stare, turning to the ceiling.

“Good night, Ziva,” Tony replied, somewhat amused.

Ziva stood a moment in silence, listening to the rain. She wondered if he could also hear her breathing as clearly as she listened to his by her side. She tried to tone it down, though it was almost impossible with her heart still tattooing the inside of her ribs like that. 

“Good night,” Ziva replied after some time, her eyes still open. “Tony,” she amended, and her voice felt weaker than usual. 

Sometime later, Tony’s breathing turned heavier, and Ziva found herself closing her eyes too—the number of freckles under his eyes being the last thought she had before falling asleep. 

* * *

Ziva woke up a bit confused, not sure where she was and why it all seemed so bright. She noticed the light first - bright rays of sunshine piercing through the shutters to paint the room gold - and that it was morning. Birds were singing and the air smelled of dew, and suddenly she wanted to open the windows to let the freshness of it properly spread across the room. 

She felt the warmth later, this engulfing kind of warmth that felt compelling and strange at the same time. A hand was playing with her hair and…

_Oh_.

A stream of memories from the night before came back in a second, and Ziva lifted her head from Tony’s shoulder to find him already looking at her. 

“Hi,” he offered a small smile. 

His hair looked disheveled and Ziva suddenly wished to run her hand through it. 

“... Hi,” she said, but made no move whatsoever in getting out from his arms. Their legs had somehow tangled together and one of Tony’s arms circled her middle while his other hand brushed strands of hair out of her face. 

Ziva suddenly felt giddy, and her own fingers started making lazy circles on the fabric of his shirt. She didn’t really process it, but a second later they were on his hair, combing it down as if she just couldn’t control her actions anymore. 

“I was right,” Tony skimmed her face, a sparkle in his eyes as he smiled. “Couldn’t stay away from me, could you?”

“You kept pulling me in.” Ziva raised one eyebrow. “And this bed does not really fit the two of us.”

“Hm,” he hummed, and now the hand that hugged her started tracing the side of her ribs, bringing a flicker to Ziva’s chest she hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

She withdrew her fingers from his hair but didn’t move, letting her hand fall to his chest instead. 

“We should go,” Ziva said quietly, still blinking away the grogginess.

“We should,” Tony replied, studying her under heavy eyelids. 

With one of Tony’s hands playing with her hair and the other one making shapeless patterns on her waist, Ziva felt a calmness she wasn’t familiar with, one that made her lay her head onto his chest again and close her still tired eyes.

“The rain stopped,” she slurred. 

“Hm…” Tony pressed a kiss to her hair. “Did it?”

“Yes.”

His arm tightened around her and Ziva felt their legs tangling even more under the covers, the warmth of his touch turning addictive. Tony’s lips were still pressed to her hairline when he spoke again, and she felt his voice vibrate against her skin. 

“But did it, really?”

Tony withdrew his fingers from her hair only to tilt her chin up, and in such calmness after the storm, Ziva let his soft lips claim hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about changing the dialogue, but the original scene and jokes are just so absolutely perfect, I find myself drifting towards it haha. I love the idea of Tony and Ziva in this kind of situation, and maybe if I had more time, it wouldn't feel as rushed. Maybe one day I will write this in detail, this story in particular has a lot more to cover... Anyway. Thank you so much for reading it! <3


	26. Lady Luck

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a walk to a suspect’s cabin, McGee finds out something really susprising about Tony and Ziva.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Forests 🌲

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Three-Musketeers shenanigans, poor McGee third-wheeling yet again and some Sinatra jams. Also known as the hurt/comfort story of this series (ouch).

Ziva surveyed the spaces between the trees, looking for anything suspicious. They were there to cross the pathway towards a cabin owned by one of the suspects, and though the view of the copper leaves covering the forest floor was stunning, Ziva felt too tense to appreciate it as it deserved. 

She stepped onto a puddle and clenched her jaw. One would think there would be an easier way than to go through an enclosed forest, but the need for discretion made them choose the hardest path. That’s how she found herself with an impending headache, gaze darting from the sound of dry leaves being snapped by a quick squirrel to the loud gushes of wind that swayed the heavy foliage from time to time. 

The surrounding bright orange tone and the cold autumn air made Ziva acutely alert - which wasn’t something really helpful while her senses were already honed to catch compromising spots wherever she went - but being at the front of the group, it was also her job to pay attention—even if she was certain there would be no danger at this point.

_“Luck let a gentleman see, how nice a dame you can be.”_

Tony’s voice came singing from some place behind her, but Ziva somehow knew it was directed at her. She huffed out loud, then looked over her shoulder to find him staring at her from under his eyelashes, his NCIS cap turned backwards in a way that made him look younger somehow. 

“ _I know the way you’ve treated other guys you’ve been with_ ,” he continued to sing, his gaze now turning to the forest canopy up above. “ _Lucky be a lady with me_.”

“Could you not?” Ziva asked, and kept making her way through the broken twigs and steep slopes. 

“What, _sing_?” Tony chuckled. “It’s Sinatra, he’s always a pass. Where’s the constitutional freedom nowadays? I need to find a way to keep my sanity.”

She snorted. “Exactly. Would you mind?” 

“What? I can’t hear you.”

Ziva listened to the sound of leaves cracking and heavy breathing until Tony materialized right next to her. 

He swayed towards her and started another tune, “ _I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend an evening with me_.”

Ziva interrupted him with a chuckle. “Clever.”

He sent her a confident smile. 

“I have my moments.”

“Cute,” she raised an eyebrow. “It’s still a no for me.”

“I didn’t ask you anything.”

“Really?” Ziva pursed her lips. “I thought you had.”

“Not anymore, David. Even a man has his limits.”

“ _You_ have limits? I would love to meet them someday.”

“Oh, Ziva. Stop playing so hard to get. I know you want it.” Tony pointed to her face, his index finger invading her personal space as he said, “I can see it. In that little sparkle you sometimes get in the corner of your eyes.”

Ziva furrowed her brow and focused on jotting down a rather slippery slope instead. 

“You are seeing things.”

Tony’s hand appeared right next to her and Ziva instantly took it, not really thinking about it. Their gazes met and she found him smirking, the sparkle in his eyes holding a secret. 

“Am I?”

Ziva withdrew her hand right away, cursing the heat that flushed on her cheeks. Not giving him the satisfaction of a further reaction coming from her, she picked up her pace, taking the spot at the front of the group again.

“What’s this about?” asked McGee, coming from a place behind them.

Ziva continued to survey the spaces between the trees, not looking back. “He’s bitter,” she huffed.

McGee chuckled amused. “Anthony DiNozzo, _bitter_?” 

“Ha-ha. Careful, Probie.” Tony scowled at him. “Don’t poke the bear or the claws come out.”

“You are a bear now?” Ziva teased, then eyed Tony’s belly and cast him a sly smile. “Suits you.”

“It’s an expression,” he faked a sweet smile. “But of course, you wouldn’t know.”

“Hm.” Ziva pursed her lips, and was grateful that Tony was behind her - otherwise, he would have certainly noticed the small smile she just couldn’t refrain. 

“And what’s the problem?” quizzed McGee again. 

Ziva shrugged, then lifted her hand to push a tree branch out of the way. 

“He’s just resentful I said no.”

McGee frowned. “About what?”

Ziva hummed amused, the memory coming back to her. 

“Going out with him.”

“ _What_?” exclaimed McGee, and when Ziva looked at him, she questioned if she had ever seen him that surprised. McGee halted, his gaze darting between the two of them as if he just couldn’t believe it. 

“Like a…” Mcgee stuttered, “... like a _date_?”

Tony’s gaze flickered to Ziva for a split second before he made his way to McGee, clenching his friend’s shoulder as he smiled. 

“I know you’re not familiar with that concept, McVirgin, but sometimes two people go out to eat and talk and—”

Ziva rolled her eyes, and the unimpressed huff she let out made Tony look at her instead. 

He quirked an eyebrow, saying, “Or we can skip all of that if you want to.”

Wiggling his eyebrows, Tony was successful in making Ziva smile, and she turned on her heels to continue with their crossing. She would rather bleed than admit to him that the implication had truly disarmed her, and some days even kept her awake at night. There came a point where neither of them would deny the attraction they felt, and even if they didn’t really talk about it, sometimes it turned almost unbearable. 

“But… you two?” asked McGee, still baffled. “On a date? _Together_? What about rule number twelve?” He huffed somewhat offended and then picked up Ziva’s pace to ask her, “Why didn’t I know about that?”

“Oh, aren’t _you_ the dating extraordinaire?” 

Ziva shot Tony a glare and he raised up his palms in a defensive manner, looking the other way. 

“It was not important, McGee.” Ziva squeezed his arm. “That’s why I did not tell you. It cannot happen and besides, I would never date _him_.”

“ _He_ ’s right here,” Tony whined. “And if I remember correctly, we already had many dates. What about that time we watched ‘The Black Pirate’ in the bullpen?”

Ziva chuckled, amused at his memory of things she thought didn’t matter that much. 

“That was not a date. We canceled our dates that day.”

She glanced at him to find Tony already casting a too knowing smile. 

“Really? Because it felt like a date to me.” 

He winked at her and his grin widened, and Ziva felt a compelling need to look away—otherwise, she would certainly say things she would later regret. 

The truth, for one.

“Sweetheart,” Tony’s voice was a warm breath at her neck and Ziva shuddered against her better judgment. 

His hand pulled her by the arm and made her spin towards him, bringing their faces now inches apart. Ignoring the sudden increase of her heartbeat, Ziva narrowed her eyes at him while Tony’s gaze skimmed her face. 

“Give me _one_ reason not to go on a date with me.” 

Tony licked his lips, waiting for a response, and Ziva cursed at the side smile he gave her when her eyes fixed on his mouth instead. 

“Sure,” she said with a sweet smile, tilting her head. “I have a few. Here’s one—” Ziva yanked her arm from Tony’s grip the same time her smile died. “You are insufferable.”

She resumed her steady pace and left him behind, but just couldn’t ignore the bark of laughter that came from Tony a second later. 

“Oh, David,” he stated smugly, and a smile was clear in his voice as he continued, “You don’t know what you’re missing. I’m still going to get you to—”

Then everything changed. 

She heard the hissing sound of something piercing the air, followed by a strong huff of Tony behind her being undoubtedly hit by it. 

Ziva felt her bones turn cold as she darted her gaze everywhere, trying to find the shooter. 

A blur of color moved at the side of her vision and she unclasped her weapon immediately, raising it to the top of the hill and shooting without thinking twice. 

The sound pierced the wind again, the bullet cutting the foggy air to find its target a second later. Ziva knew she had succeeded because the man let out a cry right before tumbling down the hill, falling a few feet away from them. 

With her heart racing, she checked to see that it was in fact their suspect, his lifeless face turned towards her in an accusatory scowl. Feeling colder than the air around her, Ziva surveyed the surroundings again, now hurriedly trying to find someone else hidden between the trees. 

She couldn’t think straight, but after a minute of making sure there was no one else other than the forest itself, Ziva turned around and felt her heart shatter inside her chest. 

“Tony!” she yelled, running towards him. 

Tony laid unconscious at the middle of the path, his head turned to the side while his legs were spread as if he had fallen backwards. As soon as she crouched next to him, Ziva realized he had hit his head on a rather large tree stump, her fingers coming out bloody as she touched the back of it. 

McGee ended the phone call next to her and Ziva tried to process what was happening as he told her help was already on the way. 

Feeling guilt in every fiber of her being, Ziva pulled Tony in a way where his head would rest against her chest, his body feeling nauseatingly heavy as she did so. The blood on the back of his head started to pool on her shirt, but Ziva didn’t care. Not when she tried to find other injuries, her shaky fingers failing to open his shirt quickly enough. 

She should’ve paid more attention. It was not only her place to assure safety for them but also her job to protect him. He was her partner. Her _partner_ , for heaven’s sake. If she hadn’t been so distracted or pretentious nothing would’ve happened there, he would still be right next to her, laughing about silly things.

Ziva couldn’t breathe. As she struggled with Tony’s shirt buttons, it was as if someone else had taken control of her body and now did all actions for her. His name was ringing in her ears and she couldn’t remember if it had come from her own voice or if she had conjured it. Her throat felt too dry and she couldn’t control her shaking, her fingers too slippery to do the job right.

She couldn’t lose him. She just couldn’t. Not when there was still so much to tell him, so much for them to experience… 

He didn’t know. He didn’t know, and now perhaps would _never_ know what she really thought of him. What she had always felt towards him, what she’d dreamed about… 

He needed to be alright. She just couldn’t handle it in any other way. He _must_ be alive. 

Ziva shuddered out loud, relief flooding her as she spotted the shine of a bullet stuck inside Tony’s bullet vest, right where his chest met his shoulder. 

He hadn’t been hit, he was alright, he was alright…

Ziva didn’t realize she was rocking his body until Tony mumbled something incomprehensible and she felt that shock again, that wave of relief washing her from the inside. 

She searched his gaze as he winced, trying to open his eyes at the too-bright sky. Tony lifted a weak hand to hold Ziva’s arm, still unable to open his eyes. He scowled, perhaps feeling the pain coming from the back of his head—a suspicion that was confirmed as Tony slowly lifted his other hand towards it, trying to feel it right in front of her shirt. 

He let out a whimper but otherwise looked like his normal self. Eyeing the bullet-proof vest which had saved him from a shot just above his heart, Tony shuddered inside her arms, holding still a moment after. 

Ziva only realized she was crying when she let out a shaky breath, laughing in relief at how offended Tony looked by having been saved from a bullet vest. The sound made him turn his head towards her, and he hissed at the sudden motion of it. Ziva hastily wiped the tears that had wet her cheeks before he could see, but something in the way he now blinked lazily at her told her the feeling of relief was mutual. 

“Hm,” Tony offered a small smile, closing his eyes again. “Hey, there.”

“Hi,” Ziva let out another shaky laugh. “Yes.”

“Hm… what? What happened?”

Ziva brushed the hairs from Tony’s forehead and felt her heart start to beat again when he visibly relaxed in her arms. 

“You were hit in the shoulder,” she replied. “You knocked out after you fell and hit your head. McGee already called an ambulance. You might have a concussion. They’re on their way.”

“Oh,” Tony winced again as he tried to sit up. “Ouch. What—”

“Yes,” Ziva let out hurriedly. 

“Hm?”

“Yes, I will go out with you.”

Tony blinked a few times, a slight frown appearing as he skimmed her face in wonder. 

“I can’t hear you,” he replied slowly, licking his dry lips. “Would you write that down for me?”

Ziva couldn’t refrain herself from smiling then, huffing at his lack of self-preservation. Tony chuckled weakly, closing his eyes again as he squeezed Ziva’s hands that still embraced his body. 

“So I was right, huh?” he let out in a breath.

His blood was already caking on her shirt, but she needed to find a way to keep him talking until help arrived. Ziva wondered if he could feel the way her heart was racing inside her chest right under where his head was placed. 

“About me?” she asked, offering him a small smile. She hoped he could forgive her. 

“No,” Tony started shaking his head vehemently at her expression but clenched his jaw when the pain returned. He huffed, then inhaled before continuing, “That too, but… Luck.”

He pointed to where the bullet was stuck on his vest and smiled weakly.

“Luck really be a lady tonight.”

And as Tony’s thumb started brushing Ziva’s forearm, she smiled as well. 

Something told her he was talking about more than just a bullet. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Luck Be A Lady](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfiKk4wxiVM) \- Frank Sinatra
> 
> [Something Stupid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_t2gNCXYbY) \- Frank Sinatra ft. Nancy Sinatra


	27. Wishful Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After returning home, Tony notices someone has invaded his apartment... to watch the shooting stars?  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Stargazing ✨

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loosely inspired by a scene from Sen Çal Kapimi. 
> 
> inspired by the song [shut up](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SpNn32HA0SI) by Greyson Chance.
> 
> for melisa and joana.

As soon as the key turned inside the lock, Tony knew he wasn’t alone. 

He opened the door slowly, unclasping the weapon from his belt. He didn’t remember leaving the front door unlocked before going to work, and he surely didn’t leave any music playing from his living room. Trying to control his heavy breathing, Tony stepped inside, already narrowing his eyes to try to see better in the dark.

Something swayed in the wind next to the kitchen window, and Tony quickly turned his weapon towards it. Carefully taking another step, a confused frown took over his suspicion once he realized what it was. 

Tony turned on the lights, frowning at the scarf hanging at the kitchen rail where he usually kept his utensils. It looked familiar, but he couldn’t exactly place where he’d seen it before. Taking it between his fingers, it appeared to be made out of wool, a bit heavy for the current chilly weather. He wondered why its beige tone looked so…

 _Ah_. 

Tony huffed out a chuckle, shaking his head. Taking out his weapon and badge, he locked them inside the safe behind his DVD collection and stopped for a moment to appreciate the music. The Platters, by the sound of it, and a great song too. 

_Too real is this feeling of make believe  
_ _Too real when I feel what my heart can’t conceal_

Tony bounced to the kitchen to get food for Kate, but once he got back to the fishbowl, there was already a note stuck to it. 

_Done x_

Failing to suppress a smile, Tony got back to his fridge in a few steps and grabbed a couple of beers. He tried to refrain his chest from fluttering, he really did, but it was something that escaped his control. To get back home and find little touches of her made his heart beat faster, and for once Tony wasn’t angry someone had invaded his home. 

He just had no idea _where_ she was. 

Glancing at the living room, Tony found that there was no sign of anyone (other than the song that had now come to an end), as well as the hallway or the kitchen. A bit surprised and silently hoping for the best, he went to his bedroom, but his single bed was also empty. 

Already wondering if he was in fact dreaming, Tony almost returned the bottles to the fridge before he looked up and smiled.

The rooftop access was open, and he pulled down the ladder to climb the steps into the cool night air.

Tony’s heart did that little familiar flip inside his chest when he found Ziva sitting on the floor, embracing her knees and looking upwards to the sky. The position made her look younger for some reason, but the leather jacket she sported confirmed it was really her. Maybe he’d stared at her a bit too much at work that day, but he really did love that look, and she didn’t use it not nearly often enough. 

Ziva’s back was turned to him, but Tony would’ve been a fool not to think she had sensed him coming. Stepping closer, he placed the cool surface of one of the bottles against her cheek, and Ziva turned to him almost surprised at the sudden touch. 

“Didn’t expect to see you so soon,” she said, but accepted the beer nonetheless. 

Tony chuckled, then sat next to her, stretching his legs in front of him. The air was a bit chilly but reasonable, and it felt good to breathe its coldness for a change. Stretching his neck to glance over the parapet, Tony saw only lamp posts and city lights shining back at him, little blurs of color scattered across the night. 

“You know it’s _my_ apartment, right?” He took a sip of his beer and glanced at Ziva, whose lips were now slightly tilting upwards. 

“Hm. Yes.” She clinked her bottle against his and took a sip of her own. “Yours has a rooftop. I needed it today.”

“You needed it? For _what_?” 

Tony raised an eyebrow and Ziva rolled her eyes at the implication of his amused face, shaking her head right after. He noticed that her hair was down - different than from the office earlier that day - and God, she looked beautiful smiling like that. Strangely relaxed, but then again, it wasn’t so strange to feel such comfort when it was only the two of them alone. 

“The sky,” she replied, facing upwards again. “There’s a meteor shower tonight.”

Tony forced himself to stop staring at her to glance at the sky too. It was dark and moonless, but he could spot a few stars here and there, groups of light scattered between patches of black sky. 

“Shooting stars?” Tony asked. 

“You can say that.”

“Hm.” He leaned closer to nudge his shoulder against hers. “McGee’s geekiness rubbed off on you during this week of stakeout.”

Ziva huffed out a laugh. “I have always liked the stars. It’s unrelated.”

“Really? Aren’t you the little explorer?” Tony grinned at how Ziva was raising him an eyebrow. “What, many nights gazing at the stars in the desert?”

“Hm.” She pursed her lips. “You make it sound so…”

“Romantic?”

“I was going to say fantasized.”

“Huh,” Tony huffed a breath. “Then tell me. Why do you like the stars so much?”

Ziva looked at him as if deciding if he was worth her trust. “I just do,” she settled. 

“C’mon.”

“You would not understand.”

After slightly narrowing her eyes, Ziva’s face turned pensive again and she looked back towards the sky. Tony questioned if there was a deeper reason behind it - a story she didn’t really want to share - but as they fell into a comfortable silence again, he felt like she would tell him if she really wanted him to know. 

“‘Kay. If you say so.”

Ziva continued to face the sky, but he didn’t miss how the corner of her lips lifted just a bit, right before she took another sip of her beer. He studied her profile for a while, the lines of her nose and mouth. He realized he could stay doing just that for hours if she let him, and wondered if she knew that. 

“What are you doing?” asked Ziva, a surprised chuckle at the sudden click of his phone. 

“What?” Tony tried to fight a smile. “I’m just taking a picture.”

He leaned back to get a better angle, and when Ziva failed to steal his phone away, Tony continued with his impromptu photoshoot. 

“Not of _me_! Take it of something else.” 

Ziva continued to laugh, and even if her hands now partially obstructed her face, Tony felt a flutter inside his chest when he checked the photo to see that she really looked beautiful in it, just like he thought she would - a carefree smile captured for him to cherish whenever he wanted. 

“I need a new picture of you for my phone. We have no pictures. It’s more of a necessity.” Tony turned the camera to take a selfie of them. “I need to see your scrunchy nose from the distance to get ready for endless arguing.”

He made a silly face and she scowled at him, and he mentally noted to take a look at that photo later. It must have really captured the essence of the two of them.

“I do not argue,” Ziva huffed. 

“Really?” Tony looked at her from the corner of his eyes but continued to take pictures. 

“Yes,” she replied. “I am a peacemaker.”

“You’re arguing right now, David.” 

He smirked, and her eyes widened a bit before her lips twitched into a smile. Tony’s smirk turned to a grin as Ziva rolled her eyes, and to his surprise, watched his face for a moment before getting closer to press her cheek against his, smiling at the selfie. 

It wasn’t his intention to smile the biggest grin ever, but as Ziva turned to press a kiss to his cheek, Tony felt his pulse racing as he captured the photo, one he just _knew_ it would later become one of his favorites. 

A moment later, Tony turned to see her face lingering inches close to his, Ziva’s eyes still sparkling at the rare moment of friendship. As they shared a breath, the cool air suddenly turned warmer, and as Ziva’s eyes flickered to his mouth, Tony had a sudden urge to just lean over and kiss her without warning. 

She backed away quickly, though, surely knowing what he was thinking. He wasn’t surprised - it was a game they were playing for years - but as she downed the remaining of her beer, Tony just couldn't stop himself from laughing about it. 

He cleared his throat, pocketing the phone away. Ziva let out a hum in return, letting him know that whatever he was planning was mutual—something that was turning even more frequent these days. 

“So,” she said amused. “Have you ever seen a shooting star?”

Tony glanced at her for a moment, seeing the knowing sparkle in her eyes before he turned to look at the sky again. 

“Not that I recall.”

“What about constellations?”

“Let me guess.” He chuckled, “You know all of them.”

“A few. I needed to know them for my training at Mossad,” Ziva replied, her gaze turning to the sky again. She was lost in thought. “We used to camp at forests and wild sites, we needed to know the sky to find our way back to base. I got used to searching certain stars as reference points. It gets easier to spot them the more you train your eye to see. Beyond all that darkness, I mean.” 

She glanced at him again and Tony didn’t look away when she caught him staring.

Ziva’s smirk held a secret he was very familiar with. 

“Sometimes all this light is right in front of you and it’s still so hard to find,” she said.

He wondered if she knew where his mind went. She must have, he had a feeling tonight was pretty difficult to disguise whatever it was that he was feeling. 

Tony hesitated to let Ziva know how bright she was shining right in front of him then. 

“Would you teach me some?” 

Tony’s voice sounded almost like a whisper, but his mouth suddenly felt too dry to correct it. How she had the power to make him helpless so easily, he had no idea, but Tony had to bite the inner side of his lip to keep his self-control in check. The way she was looking at him really made him want to kiss her, and his heart was already in his throat just by thinking about it. 

Ziva seemed to have heard him, though, because she took both their bottles and placed them on her other side, motioning him to lean backward. Tony followed her lead, lying down at the rooftop and trying to ignore how warm Ziva’s presence at his side felt. 

Her right shoulder was touching his left, and his senses were acutely tuned to it before she moved closer to him, placing her head next to his. Ziva lifted a hand to point out as many constellations as she could, and Tony listened to her with rapt attention. Her calm voice soothed him, and he let himself get lost in the stories she was telling.

The sky was cloudless and with each passing minute, Tony realized it looked truly beautiful, clearer somehow. They laid there for more than half an hour, laughing at the increasingly ridiculous stories he made up when Ziva couldn’t remember the official ones before she caught him staring.

“So you believe in that stuff about everything coming from stardust?” he asked, propping himself on his elbow to face her. 

Ziva took a moment to answer. “I like to think that there’s beauty in what we do not understand. Besides, they are human creations. All there is are stars, but we decide to group them into constellations.”

She must really like that topic, and when Tony glanced at Ziva at his side, his heart fluttered inside his chest by how carefree she was smiling towards the sky. When her gaze turned to him, Tony's breath caught in his throat, and as Ziva’s eye crinkles deepened more than he had ever seen them, he knew, right then and there, that that was it, game over.

Tony was well and truly gone on Ziva David. 

“You know what you should do right now?” he asked without thinking.

“What?” her voice sounded hopeful. 

“Tell me a secret.”

Ziva chuckled. “And why would I do that?”

“Aren’t we having a moment? Isn’t this a moment between us?” Tony pointed between them and watched as she raised an eyebrow. “C’mon, David. Y’know, I thought I had softened you. We’re actually stargazing at _my_ rooftop. You already owe me something.”

He cracked his charming grin and watched in wonder as she smiled as well, her eyes sparkling.

“Tell me one first.”

“That wasn’t the deal.”

“There was no deal.”

“Fine.” 

Tony narrowed his eyes mockingly and Ziva laughed. He really liked that sound, and wondered if it would take long for him to hear it again.

Taking a moment to think of something to tell her, Tony found himself laying back to stare at the sky again, now recognizing some of the constellations. 

“I wasted all my birthday wishes on the same thing until I was sixteen.”

Tony’s confession hung in the air for a moment, and he wondered if Ziva had listened to it at all. A rare cloud passed the sky then, though it was thin and fleeting. A second later, he could spot the stars again, their number now having increased as the night turned late. He wondered if he had ever done that - stargaze at his apartment rooftop - and caught himself smiling at the thought that if it weren’t for Ziva, he would perhaps never do that at all.

She really changed his life for the better, in ways she didn’t even realize. 

“On what?” Ziva asked after some time, her voice startling him. Tony was finding it hard to believe she was really right there next to him. 

“A Ferrari?” she laughed. 

Tony smiled. “Hm. I should’ve thought of that, perhaps it would’ve become true.”

“You still have time, yes?"

“Thank you for the vote of confidence. I’ll let you know once I get one.”

She chuckled amused, saying, “You will never shut up about it.”

“That’s true.”

They shared a laugh until it turned to silence again, but it wasn’t awkward. Tony tried to remember the last time he’d felt so calm. 

“What was it?” Ziva asked carefully after some time. “The wish, I mean.”

A small smile appeared on his lips at the memory. 

“Going home,” Tony sighed, then added quickly, “Cheesy, I know, but I had such a built-up idea that one day I would get the same feeling of being home again. From before my mother… Before she wasn’t there anymore. The smell of fresh-baked cookies every single Saturday… I still remember it to this day.”

“One time—” Tony chuckled at the sudden fond memory, “—one day I tried to recreate it and ended up burning the whole ceiling above the stove black. I’ve never tried making cookies again. They never tasted right, anyway.”

They stood a moment in silence, and Tony watched the stars as they shone.

“I am sorry,” said Ziva softly. 

“For what?”

“The cookies.”

Tony let out a breath and smiled at the memory he rarely let his mind wander to. Ziva had no idea how good it felt to talk about things he kept to himself for years, but it brought a relief he wasn’t used to.

“Oh, don’t bother,” he chuckled weakly, “When I was seventeen, I turned wiser and started asking for a Ferrari.”

Ziva hummed, but her voice was gentle as she said, “Right.” 

“A lot more accessible, don’t you think?”

“Hm.” 

“Yeah…”

Half-hoping he hadn’t in fact spoiled the moment, Tony settled for silence again. He always had this constant fear of talking too much around her, though he couldn't help it. She gave him so much to say, and even with the risk of her walking away because of it, something about her made him want to be loud. Even louder than usual. 

Because what if she didn't? What if even after all the nonsense he couldn't hold to himself, she decided to stay?

They spent some time like that, feeling the wind and watching the sky. Tony was almost surprised as Ziva spoke again, her voice almost a whisper. 

“I used to steal cookies from my Aunt Dora’s kitchen and blame the mice for it.”

Tony’s lips twitched into a grin, and he couldn’t refrain himself from laughing then. 

“Ziva David, you sneaky lady,” he stole a glance at her. “I always knew you were a naughty girl.”

Ziva cast him a playful smirk. “She was partially blind, so she believed it. She even put mouse traps around the house,” she smiled. “My uncle knew all along, though. I remember him winking at me and getting one for himself.”

Tony returned the smile. 

“I like him already.”

“Yes,” she said, facing him. “He would like you too.”

Ziva’s eyes bore into his then, and Tony found himself unable of looking away. 

“Don’t you think—”

She glanced at the sky then and her eyes widened, a hand lifting excitedly to point something among the stars. 

“Look! It started!” Ziva let out a laugh. “Did you see that?”

Tony forced himself to look at the sky just in time to catch a shooting star, quickly piercing the darkness and then disappearing a second later. 

“Oh, wow.”

“It’s beautiful,” Ziva replied.

He turned to her to find the biggest smile on her face, one he so rarely saw. His heart did that little flip again, flickering inside his chest. 

“It is,” Tony said, still watching her. 

Ziva glanced at him again, giggling.

Ziva David. _Giggling_.

Tony was so surprised, he huffed out a breath, his lips tilting upwards instantly. 

“Do you make a wish?” he asked.

“Certainly,” Ziva replied, wonder clear in her face as she stared at the sky. “To every star that falls. You can ask for any type of car you want.”

“I’ve asked for that all my life.”

“What do you wish for, then?”

Tony watched from the corner of his eyes how the starlight danced on her face, light painting her usual honey skin in hues of silver. Ziva was still looking at the sky, a smile so true she turned ten years younger right in front of him. 

Glancing at the sky again, Tony smiled broadly as another shooting star appeared, crossing the darkness for a couple of seconds. He made his wish, suddenly feeling like sixteen years old again. 

“Something wonderful,” Tony replied.

And hoped with all that he had that it would come true. 


	28. Perfect Match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ziva steps into the party and isn’t completely surprised by all the eyes that turn to her - but that is far from being the only surprise of the night.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Halloween Party 🎭

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for annalise.

Ziva stepped out of the car, facing the chilly air of the street. 

She was nervous. This wasn’t something she usually did, dressing up like that. 

She should’ve brought the jacket she left hanging at the back of her door. Her bare shoulders were shivering, but now there was no going back. Maybe if she had calculated how much skin that outfit was going to show, she wouldn’t even have tried it. Even with the metal-like plaques now covering her forearms, there was still a lot to cover—and the tightness of the bodice didn’t really leave things to the imagination. 

She wasn’t feeling bad as she had looked in the mirror earlier that night, though.

No, she felt… Different. It wasn’t common for them to have time to dress this fancy, and even more than that, go to a party. It was true it was still in the local bar they used to go to every Friday or so, but… With makeup and styled hair, Ziva hadn’t felt that different in a long time. 

Swallowing down her self-consciousness, Ziva took a step towards the bar, opening the rusty door. 

A dozen conversations started at the same time, the sound amplified as she stepped inside. Quickly surveying the bar entrance, Ziva realized it had been decorated with Halloween colors - dull orange and light purple lights hanging from the ceiling - as well as a few spiderwebs and scary skulls placed between the drinks and on various tables. 

In a second, Ziva also noticed that many eyes had turned to her. Some belonged to people she knew, perhaps ones she could even call friends - after a couple of drinks, it was difficult not to laugh with the regulars - but most were from men seeking something. Company for the night. 

Ziva tilted her chin up, challenging them. With a side smirk, she thanked the bartender, Gina, and the young woman gave her an appreciative nod. It didn’t take long for Ziva to spot her friends, though, and a relieved smile cracked on her lips as soon as she saw Abby across the room, also smiling broadly at her. 

“Wow, Ziva, you look great!” Abby took both her hands inside hers, a face so excited Ziva wondered if she had had any drinks already or if this was her natural state. She decided on the latter. 

“Thank you, Abby. And you look… Dark.” Ziva eyed her costume and quickly added, “In a good way.”

With dark eyeshadow and sporting a long red velvet cape over a black dress, Abby looked like her normal self—except for the little fangs that now protruded from inside her mouth. 

“Thank you,” she replied, grinning. “It’s my version of Dracula. Last year, I didn’t win because no one knew who was Mina Harker, so I decided on something simpler this time. Well, simpler in my eyes. It’s just absurd no one knows her. But knows him! She’s part of the story too and—”

“Wonder Woman.”

Tony’s voice made Ziva’s heart do that little flip she was familiar with, and as their gazes met, his was so intense she felt unable to breathe properly. 

It was as if the whole world was reduced to that moment, with Tony’s eyes doing an elevator motion and then back up to her face after a slow blink. Ziva looked down to her own outfit, taking in the knee-high boots and metallic dress. Meeting his gaze again, she felt that even the cold plaque circling her forehead had turned warmer somehow—when Tony parted his mouth to lick the curve of his bottom lip. 

“Yes,” Ziva replied, feeling better than she did the whole evening. 

Tony’s brow shot up, appearing above the glasses he was wearing. Ziva bit the inside of her cheek to keep from making any comment about it (or inflating his ego)—but good heavens, did he look good sporting that. Wondering if Tony would ever wear glasses in real life - and not just a part of a costume - Ziva let her gaze wander down his outfit as well, taking in his combed hair to the side and open shirt. 

“You weren’t lying,” he said, breaking eye contact for a second with a sheepish smile. 

“Why would I do that?”

Ziva tilted her head and visibly saw Tony inhaling. She knew what that gesture did to him, and offered him a secretive smile she knew he would understand. There was something so compelling in making him lose control like that, and how easy it was. All she needed to do was to linger her gaze for some seconds and he would start fidgeting, pressing his lips together or talking without any filter at all. 

But there was something different about tonight. She noticed he couldn’t stop staring. Not even when McGee arrived with the first round of drinks - dressed in some sort of character Ziva didn’t recognize, with elf ears and a strange-looking vest - and not even when a couple of his local friends approached him. 

Tony continued to look at her over the bottle brim and stealing glances when neither of them was talking. The night stretched into a few rounds of drinks, and Ziva soon started to feel the happy dose of alcohol inside her system. Smiling more than usual, she realized they had drifted closer to one another, and Tony’s shoulder was now pressed against hers. 

“You do know this is just a party, right?” Tony looked at her from the corner of his vision. “Not a job interview for modelling or…” he trailed off, and for what felt like the tenth time that night, let his eyes trail to where the bodice hugged her waist, tight and fitting. 

“I heard there is a competition, yes?” Ziva lifted one of her eyebrows. 

“Right,” Tony chuckled, taking another sip of his beer. “Ziva David, parading in front of everyone, dressed as a sexy Amazon Warrior.”

“Isn’t that one of your fantasies, Tony?”

His eyes sparkled and Ziva couldn’t help but cast a confident smile when the beer he was drinking stopped midair, a half-hearted huff sent in her direction. 

“Funny,” Tony said, pointing her a finger. ”You… You can’t say that. You have no right to—”

“You guys are matching!”

Abby gestured at them with a wide smile, clasping her hands together. Her excitement caught the attention of nearby tables, and now a few curious customers stretched their necks to see what she meant. 

Abby was right. Tony had the decency to look down his own torso, where a half-open white shirt displayed the Superman logo which suited him well. A loose tie was draped around his neck, and with his hair combed to the side, Tony did look straight out from a comic book. 

From the way he still stared at her, Ziva guessed she did too, his attraction now way less disguised from the effects of the alcohol. She met Tony’s gaze to find it curious rather than with the playfulness she expected, and Ziva was caught off guard for a moment before she could slip back into her façade. 

“Really?” Ziva cast Abby a smirk. “I did not notice it.”

A click sounded a second later, and Ziva flashed a smile at how excited Abby looked when she pulled McGee to see it too. Halting for a second and furrowing his brows, McGee’s gaze darted between the two of them but finally decided not to comment on the matter. After some loud, excited babbling coming from an already tipsy Abby, she left them alone as well, but not before sending a not-so-discreet wink Ziva’s way. 

“Hm.” Tony turned to her, putting his hands inside his trouser pockets. “Do you think they know?”

Ziva glanced to where Abby and McGee now stood, not looking at them but still close. They appeared to have started some sort of debate on another table about someone’s costume, but Ziva couldn’t catch much more than that. 

“No,” she replied. “They do not.”

“I thought that was the plan.”

“Hm.” Ziva turned to Tony, smirking up at him. “Seeing you squirm is way better.”

Tony’s tongue pushed the inside of his cheek, as he tried to suppress a smile but failed. 

“And you couldn’t settle on something looking less…” he trailed off, tipping his chin to her costume. 

Ziva chuckled. “Powerful?” 

His eyes were pure hunger when they returned back to her face. Ziva’s heart started beating faster. 

“I was going to say ‘less Ziva’.”

Tony’s eyes sparkled and Ziva smiled, appreciating how good he was at flirting. 

“Hm.” Ziva pursed her lips, leaning forward on the table. “I like it. I can even conceal my weapons.”

Tony’s eyes instantly flickered to her chest, the low cut of her dress drawing the desired effect. When his gaze met hers again, Ziva parted her lips. Everything was just too intense. And he looked way too handsome with his hair and glasses like that. 

“How many are there with you?” Tony stepped into her space. 

Ziva tilted her chin up towards him. “Do you really want to know?”

“A man needs to be prepared,” Tony chuckled. “But you do look... amazing.”

“Thank you,” Ziva opened an honest smile, then skimmed his face as she said, “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Tony lifted a hand to brush a curl off her shoulder, and the light touch of his fingers left a burning trace on her skin. 

“We clean up nice, don’t we?” 

He skimmed her face in wonder and Ziva smiled, looking at him from under her eyelashes. Not even a moment after, Tony chuckled, shaking his head as she trailed his gaze with her own. 

“You know what?” He chuckled weakly, then hummed with the back of his throat before meeting her eyes again. 

“Screw you,” Tony said, though his eyes were visibly sparkling.

Ziva huffed out a laugh, taken aback. “Why?” 

“For making me want to tear it off.”

Tony’s lips pressed together as he nodded towards her metal dress and his hand hit the table a couple of times in a fist, then opened with the palm facing down. Licking his lips, he closed his eyes and glanced the other way, and Ziva couldn’t help but laugh at how helpless he looked. 

“Hm.” She clicked her tongue and cracked a smile. “And I have not even ‘paraded’ yet.”

Tony continued to shake his head, the look he cast a clear mix of helplessness and pure lust. 

“Dangerous woman.”

“Wasn’t it Wonder?”

A smile cracked on his lips, and Ziva followed it as Tony turned to face McGee and Abby still in a heated conversation at the table across the room. 

“They’ll know,” he said after a moment, with a duck of his chin. 

Ziva chuckled amused, then lifted an eyebrow. 

“How?” she asked, then motioned to their costumes, adding, “I do not think we can be more obvious than this.”

Going with matching costumes had originally been Ziva’s idea, but Tony had also helped pick the ones that felt appropriate. They had previously discussed how to break the news to the team, but it wasn’t something that easy to tell everyone that they were actually together now, however natural it may seem. With a Halloween party approaching, Ziva had joked they should leave them a clue, even if as minimal as matching costumes. 

“When I kiss you,” Tony replied, then chuckled as Ziva sent him a questioning look. “Just saying. They’ll know.”

“I thought we had agreed—”

Tony’s hands cupped her face and pulled Ziva close in an instant, words cutting short. As soon as his lips met hers, his tongue demanded access into her mouth, and Ziva let him with little to no restraint. 

Tony’s mouth was almost aggressive, the kiss an explosion of all that had been building up all night. Ziva tuned her senses to return its energy, and as she let her fingers trail to the back of his head, Tony let out an appreciative groan from low on his throat. 

She felt his hands fisting her hair, and Ziva circled his neck to pull him closer. With all the weight of Tony’s body now flushed against hers, she suddenly felt lightheaded, and as his hands left her hair to trail the sides of her hips, Ziva did feel like she was getting out of breath. 

Breaking the kiss, she heard him whine before sharing her breath—as if he was also in need of some oxygen. Tony let his forehead pressed to hers, and squeezed Ziva’s waist to make a point. 

“Know that this is your fault,” he said, sounding indeed a bit breathless. 

She tightened her grip around his neck, chuckling against his lips. 

“We both know it is not,” Ziva replied. 

“It is, though.”

And if he heard another click coming from Abby’s camera, Tony made no comment on it before claiming Ziva’s lips again with his own. 

As he smiled through the kiss, though, she had a feeling he was alright with them figuring it all out just like that. 


	29. I Hold my Starlight Near

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A couple of days after moving to a new house, Tony tries to answer Tali’s questions as best he can.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Blood Moon 🌙

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one references a previous story - for full comprehension, please read chapter 27 first :)

It was the kind of night to sit still and cherish it. The sky was almost black, stars stretching in every direction. It wasn’t as late, but the winds of winter were already approaching and so Tony was now hugging the blanket he had previously draped around Tali’s shoulders tightly, rubbing her arms to keep her warm. 

“Why is the moon like that?” she asked, pointing a little finger to the sky. 

“It’s a Blood Moon.”

“Blood?”

“That’s just the name of it. Because of the color.”

Tali made an “oh” sound before resting her head again against his chest. Tony kissed her hair out of instinct and resumed rocking the bench with his feet, propping it on the porch fence. 

“And why is the moon red?” she asked after a minute, her voice reverberating against his torso. 

“She’s embarrassed,” Tony replied, studying the starry sky. 

“Why is she embarrassed?”

“Hm…” His feet halted just long enough for him to come up with a good enough explanation. “The sun told her she looked beautiful.”

“Like…” Tali turned her head to face him. “You do with Ima?”

Tony smiled surprised. “Yes, that’s right. Exactly like that.”

“And why doesn’t she get red like the moon?”

“I guess she got used to it.”

“I did not,” Ziva’s voice materialized just next to them. “I do not think someone could ever get used to it.”

She stumbled towards the bench with heavy eyes, and Tony wasn’t sure if she saw it, but he offered her a soft smile anyway. 

Ziva didn’t take long to settle in his other arm, her head meeting Tony’s shoulder as he maneuvered Tali to sit on his other leg. 

“Eavesdropping our secrets?” Tony asked, kissing Ziva’s hairline. 

She snuggled closer to him. “Never.”

“You should rest.”

“I will,” Ziva sighed. “I just finished unpacking Tali’s toys.”

It had been a couple of days since they’d moved, but there was so much to tackle, there just wasn’t enough time. 

Tony helped with the shelves while Ziva unpacked their things. He never knew how much junk he carried around until they had to fit it all in boxes, but when Tony surveyed both his DVD collection next to hers of books on the same shelf, he just couldn’t complain. His heart felt too swollen. 

“She was copying the owls hooting just now,” he said, listening to Tali’s heavy breathing as she tucked her head under his chin, already sound asleep. 

Ziva huffed softly. “She did not sit still today. I am not surprised she is so tired. Did not stop talking one minute since we got here.”

“ _Luke_ ,” Tony’s voice turned grave for a second. “ _I am your father_.”

Her chuckle vibrated against his shoulder. “And a great one at that,” Ziva said, hugging his middle. “Only you can distract her long enough to let me organize anything.”

“Until she messes it all up again.”

She huffed amused. “Can not wait for that.”

A moment passed, and Tony stayed with his lips pressed to her hairline, Ziva’s thumb caressing his leg. Glancing at Tali, he saw Ziva raise her hand to brush a strand of hair from their daughter’s face, who was still sound asleep—her mouth trembling softly as the air passed through her parted lips. 

“She’s at a questions phase,” said Tony, slowing down the rocking of the bench to a stop. 

“Hm?” Ziva slurred, and Tony wondered if was actually falling asleep. He hadn’t realized she was that tired. 

“She was asking just now about the trees and the sky and everything.”

Ziva chuckled softly in the crook of his neck, making him lean towards her touch. “She is getting too smart too quickly. Besides, everything’s new.”

“No wonder. We need to prepare ourselves. Tomorrow is tree climbing day.”

“Is it so?”

“Yes,” Tony hummed amused. “To catch the moon, she said.”

“Hm. And you will do that for her?”

“Definitely,” Tony’s lips twitched into a smile. “If she asks for the moon, that’s what I’ll give her.”

“We spoil her too much.”

“That’s probably true.”

A cloud passed the red moon then, and Tony found himself wondering if he had ever just stopped to watch the sky. Perhaps, though it seemed it was so long ago, it felt from another lifetime. 

It looked truly beautiful tonight - their garden was still to be repaired - but with the comfortable hooting of owls and the wide maple tree swaying right in the middle of their front yard, Tony felt for the first time that that place could really belong to them. 

A new start awaited for them in the morning, and if it was filled with climbing trees or unpacking boxes, he had no idea. Tony actually had no idea what the future held, it was still unmapped. Still to look forward to, and he was happy just to wait, let the plans unfold as they should. 

He chuckled to himself, his heart swelling. 

With both his girls in his arms, Tony was the only one awake to catch a shooting star crossing the sky. 

And perhaps for the first time in his life, he had absolutely nothing to wish for.


	30. Living Mirage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nearly eight months after she's gone, Tony finds himself wondering if he’ll ever stop dreaming of her.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Ghosts ✡️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I let myself write one Sad story for this series (with a capital S) and this is it. It has been a headcanon of mine for some time now, but I never had the courage to share. I hope you like it. 
> 
> **tw** : mentions of alcohol abuse, depression, and panic attacks.

Tony glanced at the clock hanging behind the bar, which was now almost striking twelve. He couldn’t believe that the morning had already passed without him going anywhere, still stuck in a vague witness statement that was so loose he didn’t have any hopes it would actually be valid. 

The young bartender was already arranging the glasses under the counter, surely getting ready for a busy afternoon. Tony wished for a second that he wasn’t working, or else he would get a drink right away. There was an uneasiness turning in his stomach for the past couple of days that only went away with alcohol - even though he’d already discussed it with his therapist the week before that - but that seemed to be the only way. 

Tony tried to ignore it. He pushed it to the back of his mind, an alarm that blasted from time to time only when something reminded him of it. He was good at ignoring it at first, but as the weeks turned into months and months rounded to a semester, Tony just couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

It was getting worse, and he knew that. The details that reminded him that nearly eight months had passed without her around were getting smaller, and now even someone’s mindless remarks about the weather would make Tony’s mind drift back to Israel.

And that big airy house with open windows. 

And the woman he hoped was still living in it. 

Tony stretched his neck, sighing as he rubbed his hand at his sore muscles. With the turmoil of his own thoughts recently, it had been quite some time he’d slept soundly or even rested. Tony found that the only things which would distract him long enough were either alcohol or work, and so he spent the course of the last week practically living at the office, filling old documents and updating new cases. 

His therapist had advised him to live one day at a time, but it was almost impossible. Every day, Tony woke up with the very same thought - _will he ever stop sleeping in a single bed?_ \- and went to work with half his mind wanting to scream at how different everything felt while the other half succumbed to how similar it still was. 

The same desk. The same walls. The same memories. Stories scattered across every corner, his eyes glancing up from time to time and being surprised she wasn’t there anymore. 

It had been almost a year without seeing her, and still, she was so present. 

Everywhere he looked - a song she would like coming from the street, a movie he wanted to show her, a joke he wanted to share - all of it bottled up inside with the thin promise he would eventually tell her. Even on the faces of strangers, Tony wondered if that was some kind of trauma - to see her if he squinted his eyes a certain way. 

“Anthony DiNozzo, I’ll be damned.”

Tony looked surprised at the woman that had just materialized next to him. With a fancy gray suit and striking blue eyes, she smiled as if reminiscing some past memory he couldn’t quite place. Her face looked familiar - and a very attractive smile at that - but Tony had no recollection whatsoever from where he knew her. 

Blinking a bit, he narrowed his eyes and she huffed amused. His confusion may have not been as discreet as he thought, and Tony tried to ease his frown as he skimmed her face.

“The one and only,” he replied, “Though it depends on who’s asking.”

She chuckled, her blond hair swaying softly with it. “Leah Ramsey?” she pointed to herself, “Friend of Patrick?”

Ah.

 _T_ _hat_ friend. 

Tony chuckled sheepishly as the memories returned - the blurry image of her smile at his friend Patrick’s house, and the strong headache he had a day after because of it. As he skimmed her face again, Tony had the faint suspicion they had had a one night stand, but it appeared not to have been much as memorable. 

“Guilty,” Tony offered a smile he hoped was charming enough to hide all that he was feeling inside. “Though I must say I wasn’t much of myself that day. Or rather, was too much of myself. I’m quite the lousy drunk.”

“Oh, don’t bother. I was also very much on the bubbly side.”

“Hm.” Tony was only mildly surprised she took the stool next to him, gesturing for two drinks. The bartender quickly obliged, giving them shots of a rather aged-looking whiskey. Her casualness about it made him wonder if she was familiar with the place, and then Tony understood. 

Triple-T. 

Tall, tasty, and trust-funded. He remembered it now, his friend shoving her towards him after another night of streaming whines about someone else - the single name that still resonated in his mind despite everything - and that her family owned some restaurants, so maybe that was one of them. 

“On the house?” he asked, earning a chuckle.

“So you’ve lied. You do remember.” Leah downed her shot, a smile dancing on her lips.

“Some things. Though I’m not one to be trusted.”

“Really? I trusted you. For one night, at least.”

Leah’s eyes sparkled and Tony sent her an apologetic look. So it was true - they had _something_ , whatever it was - but now his nausea seemed to have increased only by thinking about it. 

He shouldn’t feel that bad. They were adults and she was being casual about it, which was nice. Sex for him nowadays had lacked its meaning, other than just a fleeting state of pretending. But perhaps it wasn’t the same for her. 

Tony felt Leah’s leg brushing his, and as he downed his shot, Tony moved it slightly away to break off the touch. Casting her a smile he hoped would distract her, Tony felt the liquor burn down his throat and make his chest tight, the want of another one instantly settling in. 

“So, just stopping by?” she asked, a hopeful tone to her voice.

“Work, actually.”

“For a moment I thought you were drowning your sorrows.”

Tony chuckled bitterly. “No, not really.”

“So…” she trailed off, propping her elbows on the counter. “She has a name?”

Tony clenched his jaw without thinking, a low hum escaping from the back of his throat. _Was it that obvious?_ He clinked the shot glass against the counter a couple of times, swallowing down the name that was bubbling inside his chest. 

“Not lately,” he replied with a shake of his head. Tony suddenly felt very tired. 

“Anthony DiNozzo with a _dry spell_?” Leah teased, bumping her shoulder against his. “Who would have thought?”

Tony sighed. “I guess it arrives even for the best of us.”

“It doesn’t have to.”

The careful tone of her voice made him lift his gaze. Tony found Leah watching him with curious eyes, the blue in them stunning. He couldn’t really point out why, but the color made his chest hurt. He wasn’t used to it. 

“Hm?” Tony asked, blinking away the tiredness. The back of his eyelids was already burning.

“It doesn’t have…”

Leah’s voice disappeared once Tony glanced at the window behind her, his heart jumping to his throat. 

It couldn't be.

He didn’t know when it had started raining, but now it was clearly pouring. The cloudy sky fell over the groups of passerby surely on their lunch break - black umbrellas and blurry raincoats disappearing into adjacent alleyways. 

Tony’s eyes stayed glued to the silhouette on the other side of the street. 

He didn’t even register exiting the bar other than the sudden feeling of rain soaking his skin, his dripping hair already sticking to his forehead as he tried to breathe. 

In and out. In and out.

He was scared of blinking and miss it. The world around him felt muffled, his chest constricted as he stared at the figure still far away. Surely his eyes were playing a trick. It just couldn’t be. 

But Tony would recognize the shape of those curls anywhere. The color that haunted his dreams—dark brown eyes staring back at him whenever he closed his own. Her hair was frizzy from the rain, but so familiar from under a hood, he felt that his heart was about to jump out of his chest right into the pavement. 

Tony rubbed a hand over his face, trying to see properly. His feet had stuck to the ground, but as she started to turn the other way, they took action beyond his control. 

He felt a car slightly hitting the side of his leg before he heard the angry honking.

Quickly glancing at the mad taxi driver who was yelling at him, Tony gave him a hurried apology before looking back at the other side of the street. 

The rain turned heavier in a second. Tony couldn’t see a thing past his nose. An alarm started to blast in his mind at the same time his feet started to run, as fast as he could to where he had spotted her. 

A few people complained at his urgency, but Tony didn’t care. He didn’t care one bit as his gaze darted in every direction, trying to find her. The rain was so strong now it hurt his shoulders, and he wondered for the tenth time that day if he was in fact dreaming. 

She was nowhere to be found. 

_How…_

He was sure it was her. Tony was so sure she was right _there_ , right in front of him. With her smart eyes and still posture. Some images stayed with him forever, and that was one of them - he could recognize the way she walked in a second, the memory still imprinted on his mind. 

Tony stopped running when he got to a blind alley. His pulse was still loud in his ears, but there was no one there. The rain soaked his clothes and made him shiver, but the coldness he suddenly felt came from much more than that. 

Was he seeing things? _Was it that bad?_ The last time that happened was right before she got trapped in Somalia, years before that. He used to see her face on strangers, mirages he tried his best to ignore that only went away after he found her. When he thought she was dead, when he thought he had lost every chance of…

Tony opened the bar door again, closing his parted mouth. His heart was still racing when he realized with a flicker of shame that he was entirely soaked - water dripping at the wooden tiles. 

He struggled to breathe. _Was this how it felt like?_ His chest hurt more than ever before. 

“Sorry, I thought…” Tony trailed off, glancing at Leah, who was already putting her coat to leave. “I thought I had seen someone.”

“Oh,” she shook her head, dismissing him. “No problem. I was on my way anyway.”

“Right,” Tony let out in a breath.

She looked at him with a slight furrow of her brow, a question hanging over her head. Tony suddenly felt the urgent need to sit down. Leah must have noticed, because she immediately stepped closer to grab him by the arm.

“Look,” she said carefully, “I know that the only version of you I remember is the one from a drunken night, but… Something tells me you’re a good guy. I would love to have a chat with you someday.”

Tony blinked, not really understanding her words.

“Here’s my phone number.” Leah put something on his hand and Tony grabbed it instinctively. “Call me when you can, huh? That would be nice.”

“Right,” said Tony. He was still feeling the echo of the pouring rain hitting his shoulders. 

Leah pressed a brief kiss to his right cheek, but he almost couldn’t feel it. Tony wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, staring at that empty bar, but as he turned towards the exit again, the number of people outside had decreased greatly. 

He couldn’t stop himself from glancing at the spot he had seen her ghost, half-hoping she would suddenly materialize in front of his eyes. 

But as Tony walked the opposite way, he wasn’t surprised that there was no sign of Ziva David. 

He wondered if he would ever stop dreaming of her. 

* * *

The rest of the day didn’t go well, but that was expected. Tony missed a couple of Gibbs’ firing questions and even McGee checked to see if he was okay in a visit to the men restroom, but Tony kept his mouth shut. It was embarrassing enough he would have to talk about the incident with his therapist, and Tony learned with time that things burrowed deep would take longer to return to the surface.

Giving a rather poor excuse, Tony waited until Bishop and McGee said goodnight for the day, the elevator door closing behind them. Only when Tony was the only one left in the bullpen was that he truly exhaled, relaxing in his chair. 

He rubbed his hands over his face again, trying to fight away the exhaustion. It had been a long while he had felt that bad, the pain of his chest weighing him down. 

Slowly opening his eyes again, Tony glanced at the lamplight left on at the desk in front of him. He waited for the familiar flicker in his heart, or even the tingle at the back of his neck, but for once, he felt nothing.

Absolutely nothing other than the lack of feeling confirmed by the vacancy of the chair he was staring at. 

Tony let out a breath before standing up, taking a step towards it. With the dark light of the bullpen, it almost looked as if the shadows moved, blurry memories from past stories coming back to him.

An amused huff when he told an awful joke, an eye roll, a secretive smile. She was still there, even after all that time.

Even if she wasn’t there at all. 

Tony let his fingers trace her desk, knocking on the surface a couple of times for good measure. He pursed out his lips to no one, trying to come to terms with what it meant. 

His throat closed at the “almosts” of everything, the “ifs” left unanswered, but still ones he would come back to every night. So much was left unsaid, but some things were better that way - otherwise, they would both have been hurt way too much. 

Tony crossed the way back to his desk, breathing deeply. His fingers opened his first drawer without him really thinking about it - it was a habit he did often, that one. 

The bright Star of David shone in the darkness, and Tony took it between his fingers as he did almost daily. The metal was cold, but he felt colder. Some part of him knew what was about to follow, and he dreaded what it meant. 

Tony grabbed the little dark velvet box he kept under the necklace, one that wasn’t so old but hurt just the same. Opening it, he sighed at the sight - the ring had always looked too shallow for what he wanted to express - but it was still the one that he thought matched her the most. 

With a little rock placed at its center, it sparkled with the wasted promise of a miracle, one that felt more unreachable by the minute. 

Tony placed both the items inside the drawer again, swallowing down his pride. Taking out his wallet, he hesitated for a second but ended up opening it nonetheless. 

It had always been his favorite picture of her. With her unbound hair and secretive smile, he had been very lucky to have captured her essence so perfectly like that, and that had been a good day. A great memory, actually—though Paris was now a scarred place. 

Raising it to his lips, Tony pressed a light kiss to it as he bit back the tears—though his throat now felt completely closed. With trembling fingers, he put the worn-out photograph next to the necklace and box, closing the drawer quickly before he could change his mind. 

Breathing deeply, Tony straightened his posture, locking the dreams of her inside the drawer as well.

He turned off his lamplight, letting his gaze wander one last time to the empty desk in front of him. 

Taking a few steps towards it, he also turned off her light, a gesture that meant more than he wanted to admit to himself. 

As he made his way to the elevator, Tony took out his phone, dialing the number he found on a damp business card. 

“ _Hi_ ,” the voice said at the other end of the line. “ _This is Leah. Who’s speaking_?”

Tony hesitated for a second, his mind conjuring up the image he saw that morning for what felt like the hundredth time that night. 

But it couldn’t be. He tried to think of a logical way that could’ve happened, and he simply didn’t find any. 

Part of him wanted to run back to his computer and book a direct flight to Israel, but that was also the part that he was trying to tone down. His impulsive side. The one that didn’t think through things and ended up losing them in the process. 

“Hi,” Tony replied, then cleared his throat. “This is Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo, from NCIS?”

Leah chuckled, and as the elevator doors opened, Tony decided not to think about anything tonight other than coming up with meaningless conversation. 

As he surveyed the familiar orange walls, the silence of the room brought a flicker of pain to Tony’s chest, though he quickly dismissed it. As well as the possibility of the ghost he saw that morning belonging to someone he used to know. 

The elevator doors closed, leaving its memories to be revisited another day. 

Tony closed his eyes, conjuring the sight one last time. 

Only half-listening to the voice at the other end of the line - that not only felt foreign but also downright wrong - Tony decided to bury it. Take that image and bury it deep, along with the memories that now felt more bitter than sweet, until he was able to forget them completely.

It would be best if he did so, and never think about it again. 

Because it couldn't be true. 

For that ghost was definitely pregnant.

And Ziva was definitely not.


	31. The Addams Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ellie and Nick discuss Halloween costumes, and McGee is stressed out about the family’s plans... Until an iconic duo appears to help him with it.  
> 
> 
>     ↳ **prompt:** Trick or Treat? 🎃

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a final story with all the gang <3 nothing like them all in the same room.

“ _Damn_ ,” a voice sounded right next to Ellie’s ear, startling her. 

“Gee,” she cursed under her breath, “Nick! What—” Ellie’s cheeks turned red in an instant. “That’s awfully rude. Stop sneaking up on me.”

Nick pursed his lips towards the computer screen she had just closed trying to stop him from seeing anything. 

“Between Marilyn Monroe and Audrey Hepburn, huh?” Nick quirked one of his eyebrows, clearly very amused with the whole situation. “Thought you were more of a Buffy the Vampire Slayer kind of girl.”

“I am leaning towards a more classic vibe this year,” Ellie said with a scowl, and Nick made his way from her desk to discard his backpack at his table. “And why do _you_ care?” She sent him a dry look. “Thought you didn’t like Halloween parties.”

“If you want to see me as a sexy firefighter, you just have to ask, babe.”

Ellie scoffed, rolling her eyes. Nick only cracked a grin towards her, swaying back to her place. McGee observed everything from his desk with a vague feeling he had seen it all before, something that was turning even more frequent these days. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was somehow stuck in a time loop—one he did his best to just ignore. 

And daily, that was. Every small interaction between those two reminded him of someone else - or rather, someone _elses_ \- and McGee had decided for some time now he was way past giving them any heed. Either he was cursed or he was the only one who noticed it - the lingering glances and excessive playfulness that looked so familiar - but he really doubted that. 

After Tony and Ziva, part of him turned permanently proud of spotting an office romance since the beginning - a best seller under his pen name proving him so - while the other half was forever ashamed he had once doubted its truth. McGee wasn’t someone to be prying into other people’s business, but some things were just too _loud_ to ignore. 

He watched the younger agents from his desk, Nick leaning against the shelf behind Ellie’s desk while she tilted her chin up, clearly trying her best not to give him any attention. 

“That last one, though?” Nick’s brow shot up, and he nodded appreciatively, “Woof. Fire.” He winked when Ellie turned to face him and received the second eye roll of the morning. “Who are you trying to impress?”

“No one," Ellie huffed in return, though some color still stained her cheeks. “And I’m not wearing that.”

McGee sighed to himself when he realized he was too curious to dismiss it, however annoying their banter might be. He stopped typing and glanced up, seeing that Ellie had now crossed her arms and looked at Nick with a dismissive frown. 

“Wearing what?” asked McGee, giving in. 

Nick’s lips twitched into an amused grin. “Bunny ears,” he said, then whistled. “Ellie Bishop, playboy-dressed. Who’d have thought?”

Ellie sent him a lip-tight smile. “Daydreaming again, Nick?”

“You know I just can’t control it.”

“Do try, at least. I’m sure you can figure it out.” 

Nick’s eyebrow shot up and Ellie gave her third eye roll of the morning, focusing her attention on McGee instead. 

“What about you, McGee?” asked Ellie. “Decided on how you’re going to this year’s party?”

McGee didn’t miss how Nick was still watching _her_ talk, but decided not to comment on the matter. His friends could figure this out by themselves, McGee was just really fed up with it all. They were all adults there, even if his coworkers tended to be completely oblivious about one another, it was not his place to judge. Or intervene. 

McGee suddenly felt too old to still have to endure his friends treating love as if they were teenagers. 

“Not really,” McGee let out a tired sigh. “Delilah said it would be cute for us to dress up together, but Morgan wants us to pretend we’re ponies and Johnny has no opinion on the matter. We already were Alice in Wonderland’s gang last year, and they were adorable as the twins from it but... now I can’t think of anything. I guess I have a couple of days to figure it out.”

“Oh, don’t sweat on it, Probie. I’ve got just the costume.”

McGee turned on his seat to find no one other than half of his other favorite duo, and was simply unable to hold back his surprise.

Tony was leaning from behind his desk, toying with some post-it notes from McGee’s board with his chin propped on his hand. The typical grin he was casting told McGee he was up to no good, but was expected.

It was _Tony_. 

The picture was so familiar, McGee stood up in a second, then sat down again after realizing that was in fact _his_ desk now… Then stood up again to greet his friend. 

“Tony!” McGee crossed the space between them to give him a hug. Tony patted his back for good measure, and McGee felt like it felt good for him too. It was really a surprise to see him there. He had truly missed him. 

“And what- what are you doing here?” asked McGee, puzzled. “Thought you and Ziva would only be visiting next month.”

“Ah, that.” Tony chuckled to himself then added with a shrug, “Had to come sooner. It’s Halloween.”

McGee’s frown deepened. “You hate Halloween.” 

McGee made his way back to his desk and settled on his chair again, while Tony surveyed the orange walls as if remembering something. No wonder, the guy had practically built a life there - from having a team, to meeting his wife to spending many days working late. Those walls really held stories, and McGee felt a flicker of pride to have watched it all unfold. 

“Really?” Tony asked after some time, turning to him with his hands inside his pockets. “I guess things change,” he let out a breath, and the way he was shaking his head made McGee wonder what he was thinking about. 

That, until Tony motioned a chin towards him, declaring, “Now get out of my chair.”

McGee’s face turned dry. “It’s not your chair.”

“Yes, it is,” Tony sassed. “I didn’t retire, I just quit. As long as we’re both under this roof, Kenobi, I’m the Senior Field Agent, kay? Even more special than usual, I must say. It should be your honor.”

“You don’t work here anymore.”

“I will, however, forever be its prodigal son. Sorry, little grasshopper. Just…” Tony dismissed him, gesturing across the room. “Go to your place. Heard Nick there never sits on his chair anyways, that makes things easier.”

Nick let out a scoff, his gaze darting between Tony and the rest of the team. He looked laughably betrayed. 

“And how—” 

“Careful with Bishop there, she bites,” Tony cut him off.

Nick frowned, turning to Ellie. “Did she—”

“I am a detective, Nick. I detect things. Weird vibes, sexual tension, old memories…” McGee let Tony sit on his old chair and he propped his feet on the desk, letting out a groan as he laced his fingers behind his head. “Oh, yes. I’m getting a lot of them here. And speaking of that,” Tony opened one of his eyes to wink at Nick, “Good choice of a costume.”

Nick now looked downright offended, letting out a chuckle of disbelief. McGee didn’t miss how some red had crept up his neck, though. 

“How—”

Ellie’s brows shot to the ceiling. “Thought you weren’t going to the party.”

“I wasn’t,” Nick chuckled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just—”

“Wanted to,” interrupted Tony. He was grinning widely.

Nick put his hands on his hips. “And how the—”

“Box,” said Tony, looking towards the ceiling again. “Under Mr. Torres name. It’s down the lobby, you should get it if you want to show it to Bishop there. She’ll certainly enjoy it.”

Tony cracked a playful smile that had many implications, and McGee almost laughed at how stunned Ellie and Nick both were. 

“Really?” asked McGee. “ _You_ playing the matchmaker, Tony?”

“What?” Tony chuckled. “ _Me_? No. That’s your job, isn’t it? Thom E. Gemcity?” Tony’s tongue dragged out every word, and McGee felt the embarrassment rising up his throat.

“Do they know about it?” Tony gestured between Ellie and Nick, adding, “Or are you also hiding this periculous fact from them under the dubious circumstances you get to publish another story?”

McGee laughed weakly, rubbing his suddenly sweaty palms together. Tony sent him a curious look, then let his feet down his desk only to bark out a laugh towards the ceiling. 

“What are you talking about?” asked McGee sheepishly, his gaze flickering to how Ellie and Nick were watching their interaction closely. 

Tony stood up and walked towards him with his usual swagger. “Oh, no, McFamous,” his grin was wide as he grabbed McGee by the shoulders and added, “You already _are_ writing about them, aren’t you?”

McGee stood very still, his mind conjuring up a thousand excuses way too poor to even attempt them. Yes, their interactions often intrigued him. Yes, they helped him get the inspiration which was lacking for some time now. And yes... maybe he started a loose draft about them. 

But no one really needed to know that, right? It was fiction anyway. 

“Tony,” McGee pleaded through gritted teeth. 

Tony’s lips twitched into a wide grin. “Oh, how things never change.”

McGee inhaled deeply, relieved that he let the matter drop. “Yes, they do,” he said, shooting Tony a glare. “You’re here on a weekday. It’s eight in the morning. Where’s Ziva?”

Tony let go of his shoulders, walking across the bullpen. 

“Down with the Gremlin,” he motioned to the elevator. “Needed to talk to him or something. She’ll be up soon.”

Tony turned his back to him, and McGee narrowed his eyes at how he couldn’t meet his stare. That usually meant he was hiding something, and knowing Tony, that usually meant a prank of some kind was on the way. McGee mentally noted to pay close attention. 

“Well, it’s great that you’re visiting,” said McGee. “Are you two coming to the party?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Tony replied. “It’s Halloween.”

“You’ve hated Halloween ever since I met you.”

“Well, I have a reason to like it now.” Tony turned towards him to put an arm over his shoulders, guiding McGee to the window. “Hobbits, Probie. You’re practically Samwise Gamgee anyway. Finally put your feet’ hair for good use.” He eyed McGee’s feet and sent him a weird look. “Little Morgan and Johnny would look stinking cute, and Delilah would certainly be pleased. You two are so geeky I have to swallow down my own puke sometimes.”

“That’s nothing wrong with that,” protested McGee.

Tony huffed amused. “Only if it makes you crossed-eyed by speaking in binary on the dinner table.”

“That only happened one time.”

“Well, one time is more than enough, Tim. Just thinking about it makes me a little sick.”

“It helped to solve that case.”

“Did it help you solve your marriage?”

“It doesn't need solving.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Stop bullying him.”

Tony straightened his posture, letting go of McGee’s shoulder to turn on his heel. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Ziva quirked one of her eyebrows, scoffing, “Do not call me that.”

Tony pressed his lips together to keep from smiling. 

“Yes, Mrs,” Tony replied, and as he stepped closer to Ziva, his eyes visibly sparkled. 

McGee watched in wonder as Ziva gave him an eye roll and Tony’s grin broadened, his body swaying closer to her as if out of instinct.

One thing was right—they hadn’t changed one bit—but it was good to see them being happy like that. It felt right that they had naturally become each other’s partners (in more ways than one) and were now together. 

As if it was always meant to be like that. 

“Ziva.” McGee crossed the distance between them to hug her tight. “So good to see you.”

“Likewise,” she replied with a smile, then nodded towards Ellie and Nick. “All of you. This…” she looked around lost in thought, “Is a very special place. It is nice to see it is still working after all these years. Thank you for taking care of it.”

McGee nodded and Ziva offered him a small smile. It must have not been easy for her, after years of being away, to be inside those walls again. From the look on her face, she appeared to be lost in thought, and Tony stepped towards her to press a hand on the low of her back. Ziva inhaled, as if gathering strength, and was soon casting a soft smile again. McGee was still to find someone that strong. 

“And you’re just… visiting?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “We had to discuss some things with Gibbs.”

“About…?” McGee trailed, gaze darted between the two of them. Tony was still looking at Ziva, perhaps making sure if she was alright, but she looked like her normal self again. 

“You will know soon, Tim,” Ziva replied with a secretive smile and McGee felt his heart swell. 

He had truly missed them. 

“And how’s Tali?” asked McGee. “I hope she’s as energetic as usual.”

Ziva's smile broadened, like always when she talked about their daughter. “Cannot stop still. Makes me dizzy most days, but she is doing great.”

“Good,” McGee smiled back. “We got your postcards. She looks so big already.”

“Time…” Ziva trailed off, glancing at her old desk to find Ellie and Nick watching her back. “Time is a curious thing, yes?" 

She chuckled, this warm sound as if not quite believing she was actually there again, and McGee found himself smiling too. It was rare, for her to laugh, and it seemed like things were finally settling for them. He glanced at Tony and he was smiling as well, the shake in his head holding a secret only the two of them seemed to understand. 

“And you two?” Ziva’s gaze darted between Ellie and Nick. “How are things holding up?”

Ellie glanced at Nick for reassurance, but he seemed to have lost his tongue. McGee wondered what Ziva had previously told him to make him suddenly nervous like that. Nick wasn’t someone to lose his confidence that easily. It seemed to be important. 

“Holding up… great.” Ellie nodded slowly. “I… guess.”

“Yes,” Nick blurted out, nodding as well. “Great.”

“Hm.” Ziva narrowed her eyes, and then the smirk she sent them told them she had sensed some hidden meaning bubbling under the surface. McGee mentally noted to dig that up later. 

“Working on any case?” she asked. 

“Not yet—”

“Think again, Torres,” a new voice said, storming into the bullpen. “Dead marine. Quantico.”

Gibbs maneuvered himself between Tony and Ziva only to throw his coffee on the trash bin, stopping to grab his gun and badge on the first drawer a moment after. 

“Take me out of here, I think I’ve discovered it,” said Tony, his eyes wide. 

Ziva shot him a look. “What..?”

“How to stop time.” Tony inhaled deeply, nodding as if the matter had just got ten times more serious. “Hair grows whiter, wrinkles get deeper, but some things just go on and on in circles. It’s like I’m stuck in a—”

A hand met the back of his head a second later, and Tony winced a little before eyeing Gibbs with suspicion. 

“I really am,” he said, a hand already rubbing the back of it.

“Get out of here, you two,” Gibbs replied with a small smile. He stepped closer to Ziva to press a kiss to her hair, saying, “Dinner at my place. Bring Tali.”

“Yes, boss,” Tony replied shortly.

“Not your boss anymore, DiNozzo.”

“Yes, boss.”

Gibbs huffed out amused and darted towards the elevator, while Ellie and Nick started gathering their things to follow him. McGee lingered, stretching the moment for as long as he could, and for once didn’t run to do his job so promptly. 

“Are you going trick or treating this year?” he asked, gaze darting between Tony and Ziva as he hoped they would stay for longer. Halloween was soon, and it wouldn’t hurt for them to have a little fun, just like the old times.

“We can go together,” McGee added. “The twins would love to see Tali again. And then we can go to the party. Jimmy is going to my place too.”

“That’s a wonderful idea.” Ziva smiled. “Tali already picked a costume.”

McGee’s brow shot up, surprised. “Really? What is it?”

“Wednesday,” Ziva replied.

“Ah! From The Addams Family?”

“She has good taste,” Tony chimed in. “From me, no doubt.”

Ziva dismissed him with a shake of her head. “I think Abby will be pleased.”

“Oh, she definitely will.” McGee smiled. It felt good to revisit the old times. He really missed all of them together. “Are you guys going as something too?”

Tony glanced at Ziva to cast her an amused smirk, and she huffed out a breath, cracking a smile. 

“Aren’t we the little suburban family?” Tony said, arching one of his eyebrows. “Morticia and Gomez Adams, dancing in the kitchen and drinking red wine. Finally, a costume that rightly fits both of us.”

McGee snorted. “Madly in love, huh?”

Tony smiled broadly back to him. “Can say that. Besides, it’s a perfect match. Goths against hobbits, Probie.”

“I really hope Abby isn’t the judge this year. Tali will be adorable as Wednesday, though. And you two…” McGee nodded, putting his backpack on the shoulder. “I like it.”

“Thank you very much,” Tony replied and Ziva gave him a short nod. 

They followed McGee to the elevator, and for a moment, it felt like the old times again.

“We will meet you there, McGee,” said Ziva. 

“Gomez, Morticia, and Wednesday…” McGee chuckled, stepping into the elevator. “I need to step up my game.”

Tony pursed his lips. “Can’t forget Pugsley.”

McGee smiled, then stopped. 

He frowned, turning to look at them again. 

“Pugsley…? But isn’t he…?”

Tony put an arm around Ziva’s shoulders, pulling her close.

“Have a good day, Probie.”

McGee blinked, his eyes widening. 

“Are you two…?”

Ziva was unable to keep from smiling then, glancing at Tony as she hugged his waist. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, which lingered for a moment before he turned his sparkling eyes back to McGee.

“And Happy Halloween,” said Tony, opening the widest grin yet.

McGee’s surprised laughter echoed inside the elevator, and Tony and Ziva matching smiles were the last things he saw before the doors fully closed. 

Happy Halloween, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today marks the ending of this series. The main goal of this collection was to tell short stories about what could’ve happened ‘Once Upon a Halloween’, and I hope I could achieve that :)
> 
> I want to thank everyone who showed any kind of love and support for this project! I really appreciate it, and your comments and kudos brought me so much joy, I cannot even begin thanking you <3
> 
> This was a writing challenge, but also a journey of self-discovery, storytelling, and determination to write them all in time (haha). Here’s to more ‘Once Upon a Times...’ 
> 
> Thank you ♡ And **Happy Halloween!**
> 
> lots of love, sofia


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